Hollywood's Not America
by bethster102
Summary: Alex is sent to bust a drug ring operating on set of a movie. The Hollywood lifestyle is hard to resist, and he realizes that what started out as a simple drug bust ends up as a window into the dark side of a startlet's world, and a chance to save a life.
1. Chapter 1

**My first fanfic, so review review review!!**

Alex walked down the street, hands jammed in his pockets. His tired eyes swept the street as he continued warily down the block, his fair hair blowing in the gentle June breeze. He entered the Royal and General bank and his shoulders drooped as he trudged down the brightly lit hallway and was swallowed by the elevator doors.

* * *

Rose Laiton lay on her bed in LA, trying very hard not to think about anything except the VMA nomination. _VMA, VMA, VMA_, she repeated in her head. VMA—not drug busts, or ex boyfriends, or even trig homework—just VMAs. Her new music video had been nominated, and she was excited, she told herself. She knew that she had been under intense scrutiny lately, due to Miley's new tell-all…how she, with one phone call, could expose Disney.

Lately, Disney was all anyone could talk about. With Miley blaming her drug usage on Disney's "pressuring environment", and new photo scandals starring Selena and Demi every other week, Rose was Disney's current posterchild for good behavior. She didn't do drugs, or drink, or smoke—true. But she never told her father how she saw her chaperone popping Oxycotin, or her gymnastics instructor on Vicodin, or how she saw the director of TestLanding snort white powder in between takes—_VMA, VMA, VMAs_. She didn't tell him how she had been so close to taking the joint offered to her—only a chance interruprion stopped that little growing experience. Everyone around Rose closed their eyes to the fact that their precious covergirl was in an environment where sex, drugs and cigarettes reigned supreme and it was only a matter of time before Rose fell too. But _VMA, VMA, VMA_—it was so worth it.

* * *

It didn't matter what she wanted now anyway. The contracts were signed, the tickets were booked, and she was leaving for England tomorrow.

* * *

Alex stared blankly at the wall over Mr. Blunt's head, stubbornly refusing to look him in the eye. He had spent the past half hour trying to get himself out of his new assignment, but he knew when he was beaten. Mr. Blunt tried to catch his eye.

"Echhhhem….Alex….your mission… you're just going on vacation this time. You're not even leaving England—you're just going to monitor some drug group…" Alex flinched and finally made eye contact.

"Why me?"

"You are going to spend the summer on set of the new movie _Flashbacks,_ starring Daniel Radcliffe, Edward Norton, Rose Laiton, Brad Pitt, and Megan Fox. There are 200 people working on that set—and 150 of them are on some drug or other. The specifics are in your file. In '04 we received information that it was all being supplied by the same person, and we don't know who. We do know that he will be on set for most of the 3 month shoot—and you have to find out who it is."

Alex scowled. "What do I have to do with this?"

"The usual—they would never think for a second that we'd send a 15 year old. You are posing as an intern, and working for the head cameraman. This will give you access to almost everyone on set—excuses are plentiful. Find out who's supplying the drugs, and then tell us and we'll get you out. You will not be in any danger…"

Mr. Blunt sounded as if he would go on forever. Alex, exhausted from multiple graduation parties, decided to end the conversation soon—preferably now.

"The only immediate danger I'm in is dying of boredom. Now if you don't mind…."

Alex walked out leaving two shocked adults behind, feeling vaguely satisfied for the first time since entering the building.

When he got home, the box from Smithers was already waiting.

_Alex, m'boy, do try not to need to use any of these._

_Knowing you, though…_

_Here's a deal: any of my jolly clever inventions that remain INTACT after you're through with them belong to you. Except the gun ;)_

_P.S—Thank Mrs Jones. Don't mention it to Mr Blunt.  
_

"Sweeeet…," Alex muttered, as he pulled the gun out of the box. He was reunited with all his past gadgets, and he grinned at some of the memories that came with them. With a sigh, he pulled out the last item from the box: his file for the mission. As soon as the manilla envelope left the box it self destructed, as Jack came bouncing down the stairs.

"Motherfu—"

"Alex!"

* * *

**Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think.**

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	2. Chapter 2

**So I have a pretty good idea of where I want this to go, but tell me if there's anything specific you'd like to see in future chapters!**

* * *

While Jack left to arrange dinner, Alex sprawled out on the couch and opened the file. He started reading through the profiles of the director, cameramen, makeup artists, and everyone else who would be running around set all day.

It was deathly dull work, and finally Alex caved and flipped to Megan Fox's profile. He spent a good 15 minutes reading information that Perez Hitlon would kill to get his hands on and drooling over photos of her in Maxim. He turned to Edward Norton, of American History X, and felt like he had died and gone to heaven—he was spending the entire summer with his idols and who cares if there was a drug ring involved?

His good mood was quickly deflated as he turned the page and saw Rose Leiton's profile. He knew her name, and recognized the picture as the mini Britney Spears who his best friend Tom was obsessed with—and saw very clearly why. She was hot, with long dark hair and blue eyes. The picture he was looking at was the poster he had seen often over Tom's bed. It was a good photo—the photographer had captured her in the middle of a gymnastics routine—but that wasn't what caught his attention.

Her profile note said: 14 years old. Don't know who her supplier is, but most likely someone close to her. Possible options: Father, chaperone, gymnastics instructor, tutor, bodyguard, agent?

Alex was disgusted. He read through the rest of the profiles and memorized the head cameraman, his boss's, stats and information. He wasn't expected to know anyone else, and he sure as hell didn't want to think about that girl Rose's life, which would probably end with a drug OD given to her by someone who swore to protect her.

* * *

Alex had arrived on set three days ago, and quickly realized that being an intern to the head cameraman really didn't mean much more then janitor. He hadn't had time to build up friendships yet, so he had no idea about the inner workings and drama on set. Tonight was the meet and greet party of the cast and select crew before principal photography began and he would start blending in. He headed over to the lounge to clean up a spill—apparently Megan Fox was quite the little brat. Shame.

* * *

­­­

_The Nile river shaped Egyptian life through its regular flooding times and…._

Rose heard her phone beep and closed the textbook with a snap. She had told her friend Amber to text her when her costars arrived, and sure enough the text message read: OMG. THAT'S ALL IM CAPABLE OF SAYING RITE NOW. OMG!! AND OME—ROBERT PATTINSON'S HERE TOO!! HUNNY GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE!! IM FAINTING!! AND WE HAVE SOO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT.

Rose allowed herself half a minute of freaking out as she walked through the set, past her dressing room and Hair & Makeup, through the wide double doors and into what used to be a cafeteria and was now the lounge. A quick sweep of the room told her that sure enough, they were all there: Brad Pitt, Edward Norton, Daniel Radcliffe, Megan Fox, and yes, Robert Pattinson, as Clint Eastwood and her chaperone, all gathered in the middle of the room. Aware that every eye was now on her, Rose smiled sweetly and walked up to the little gathering.

_Where is Amber??_

"Hi, I'm Rose. I'm so excited to be here!"

_Oh, crap… do I sound as ridiculous out loud as I do in my head? Yeah, probably. Whatever—Mrs Henderson told me to be cuuuute. To start with._

"Rhose, _dahhhhling_, lets introduhhhhse you to everyone….!" Mrs Henderson, Rose's chaperone, beamed.

_Crap. She's buzzed already? Its barely 2 in the afternoon. She must really be stressed._

"This, of course, is Brad Pitt."

Brad smiled and held out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you. You are THE celebrity in my house—my kids don't stop watching _Ryan and Co_."

_Wow, thanks, Brad. Bring up that awful DCOM. Still, nice guy—but god your old!_

"It is soooo great to meet you!"

_Its official—they can all legit think I'm your usual teenage fangirl. How embarrassing. No offence. _

"And Edward Norton…"

"Nice to meet you."

"Oh my god, you too."

_Might as well lay it on thick. But anyway—I like this Edward Norton. He talks to me like a person. How odd…. _

_It's a shame that he kind of looks like a rat without all the special effects. I wish I could tell him politely that he should keep his The Illusionist look—ahh well._

"Daniel Radcliffe."

"Hello, Rose."

"Hi Daniel."

_Seems normal. Short, though. Shame…. _

"Megan Fox."

"Hey, hun. How are you? We're going to be bessssssst friends.."

"YAY!".

Alex, unnoticed in the corner, laughed quietly.

_Who just laughed? Never mind. Oh my god—I'm not 4! Apparently shes such a brat. Not that believe everything I hear. But the tabloids have it right quite often…_

_Damn. Mrs Henderson's giving me the Look. She's not my mom. Enough._

"Robert Pattinson."

_Why is Mrs. Hendersons giving me warning looks. What does she think I'm gonna do, start jumping up and down and shrieking? _

"Hey."

_Fine, maybe she's right to give me a warning look. I don't want him to hear my American accent! Crap. He already has. Just not directed at him. Ok. I'm Rose Leiton. I can do this…_

"Hi, how are you?"

_Ahhhhhhhhhhhh I want to die. His hair is hot._

"And hi, Boss, how are you?"

"Hello, Rose."

_Clint kinda looks like he wants to laugh. Is he seriously the only one? And where the hell is Amber? And that blond boy in the corner is hot…whoa—what is there to smirk at? _

* * *

Alex watched the scene unfold in front of him. Up close, he could see Rose was hot in real life, not just airbrushed. He saw her eyes sweep the room a split second before that cutesy smile came on her face, and laughed at her response to Megan. He noticed how she called Clint Boss—but everyone did. Their eyes locked for a second and he smirked at the look on her face—she looked surprised, and maybe a little interested.

* * *

**  
Review! Give me input, ideas, anything.**

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	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry if Rose comes off kinda bitchy—she's not—she's just in a difficult and highly stressful situation. And it's not like she says this stuff out loud, but she'll think nicer thoughts ;)**

**To the 2 reviewers I had-- thank you so much! Its the best feeling in the world, having reviews lol.**

* * *

Alex was ambivalent about tuxedos. He thought that he looked ridiculous, but so far all the girls he'd seen had lit up and stuck out their chests whenever he smiled at them. Tux's were also uncomfortable; but this welcome party was insanely star-studded and collar chafing was the last thing on his mind as he spotted Jessica Alba in the corner. He looked around the restaurant for Rose, and for a second he thought he'd found her, but it turned out to be her stunt double Amber wearing an ill-fitting designer dress.

A second later, he had the fleeting impression of a dark haired girl in a light blue sweatsuit grab Ambers hand. They both ran out, giggling and whispering.

Just then Mrs. Henderson appeared.

"Where is Rose?" she demanded of the bouncer in the corner. "Has she been here?"

The bouncer frowned. "Rose…."

"Long dark hair, navy Armani dress…"

"Oh. Yes. That girl. Her name is Rose? Anyway, she just left with her stunt double."

Alex was getting more intrigued by Rose by the second. He brushed his blond hair out of his eyes and winked at a couple of girls looking at him, who blushed and giggled.

* * *

Rose came in, clad in a navy dress and looking amazing. She wore minimal makeup (think 30-second face) and was accompanied her stunt double Amber, dressed in a blue Juicy sweatsuit. She and Amber hugged and Amber departed.

Mrs Henderson swept over to Rose.

"My goodness, you're here. All right. For a second there I thought you had gone to play in that awful soccer game that was scheduled for today!"

Rose smiled blandly and didn't comment.

_Amber, I love you. Thanks so much!_

She started mingling and laughing and Alex couldn't take his eyes off of her. He wasn't quite ready to talk to her yet—he realized that he hadn't come off so well in their previous staring contest, and if she was on drug then…

But wow.

Dylan Sprouse leaned over and tapped Rose on the shoulder.

"Its such a shame that you couldn't go to your soccer game. Seriously, though, if you just didn't play the last quarter … and had someone to hold your place for ten minutes while you showered… and had the luck of the devil… then you probably could have gotten away with it."

Rose giggled. "You forgot to factor in Mrs. Henderson."

* * *

Alex had pep talked himself and was about to walk over and introduce himself to her when he saw a little 5 year old walk out the door and into the street. He knew it was none of his business, but it wasn't the best neighborhood and should the kid be walking alone? Maybe he should stop him—no one else seemed to have noticed. But the kid probably had a parent right outside….

He was snapped out of his reverie as he heard Rose ask some blond boy who looked to be about 8 "Davie, Where's Nate?"

The boy looked around frantically. "He was with me a second ago! I swear! He's probably in the bathroom or something…"

"You'd better hope he didn't walk out into the street." Brad Pitt's voice was quiet but carried from across the room.

Rose turned white and Davie's face crumpled. "What can I do? This is all my fault. Where's Dad? Rose! We lost Nate!"

Megan's voice tore into the silence. "He'll turn up. Anyway—he's old enough to care for himself. It's your fathers problem."

That shocked Rose out of her frozen state. "No, you don't understand, he's little, he's—"

* * *

Alex didn't wait to here more. He slipped out, unnoticed in the chaos that followed Davie's announcement, and scanned the streets, desperately seeking this Nate.

He spotted Nate wandering down the street, completely oblivious to the pandemonium he had caused. Alex broke into a run; but he came to an abrupt halt as voices floated out at him from a quiet side street.

"I told you not to come here! Why couldn't we do this over the phone? I want no connection to this…stuff… The government's really cracking down on these types of deals! If I was arrested—do you have any idea what would happen to you?"

"Relax. I'm a pro at this—I supply everyone. No one will trace it to you…your family name will protect you."

Alex was torn between wanting to hear more about what sounded like a drug deal to needing to catch up to Nate. He deliberated for a spit second, reasoning that Nate couldn't go far, but then Rose's face, white with fear for her brother, popped into his head, and he took of at a sprint.

_Shit. The girl's probably on crack and I'll have to turn her in soon—she can't interfere with the mission. But damn she's hot—she had the balls to pull off that stunt to play football? Girl of my dreams—except for the whole spoiled brat aspect. Which is definitely there. And maybe it wasn't balls, maybe it was stupidity. Either way—interesting. _

* * *

Alex walked Nate back to the restaurant, planning on spying doubling back to the alley and finding out the names of the men. As it turns out, he didn't need to; a man exited the alley right in front of him. He was speaking rapidly into a Blackberry and Alex recognized the voice. He unconsciously sped up, with Nate jogging along behind him.

A streetlight threw the man's face into sharp relief. Alex saw dark hair, high cheekbones, expensive suit. Nate started running towards the man as fast as his little legs could carry him, and Alex was about to stop him, when a word burst from the five year old's mouth—"_Daddy_!"

If Alex was honest with himself, no surprises there. He reluctantly entered the restaurant behind Rose's father and brother, who were jabbering away in French.

Nate ran over to Rose and Davie, who were having a huddled conference in the corner. Rose's face lit up, and Davie's smile was relieved. Alex couldn't here what they were saying; it looked like they were yelling at the little troublemaker. Nate gestured to Alex and Rose looked up, surprised.

Alex was torn as Rose started walking over to him. He'd do his best to put her dad in jail for as long as possible, and maybe her, too. He resolved to distance himself from Rose as much as he could—but his resolve broke as she looked him in the eye and simply said:

"Thank you."

* * *

**Next chapter introduces Rose's dad's new gf. Also--Alex and Rose finally have a conversation.**

**The romance is coming, but it can't happen at first sight. Bear with me for a little and as always, please review!**

**P.S--alex is so hot. descriptions coming soon.**

**BTW, sneak peak of chapter 4 if you review!**

**To all of you that have, you're awesome.**

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**So Alex and Rose have a real conversation! Finally.**

**To my awesome reviewers--as of now, the five of you--I 3 you guys. You motivated me to actually type this one up.**

**Mwaaaas!**

* * *

"Quiet, everyone, rolling in three, two, one...action!"

Alex sighed and stifled a yawn as the director called action on take seven. For the seventh time, Brad looked Megan in the eye and said:

"They're my kids, damn it, and I'm going to keep them. I'll do whatever it takes!", while Edward Norton slowly took out a gun and undos the safety catch silently.

For the seventh time, Rose walked into this pivotal scene as Edward slowly tured the gun on her. Rose looked appropriately terrified, but the moment was punctured by Edward accidentaly knocking over a vase.

The entire set stifled a moan except Rose, who was too busy checking her Iphone. She looked oddly happy for a girl who had gotten up at 5 in the morning and spent a grueling day at work.

On the contrary, Clint did not look happy. Clint looked murderous, and everyone on set had seen or felt the brunt of his notorious temper at one point. They watched him warily as he stared at the smashed vase, which was slowly leaking and staining the Persian carpet.

Rose finally looked up from her Iphone, consious of the tense atmosphere. She glanced quickly at the vase and took in the entire set waiting for Clint to explode. She walked over, plucked a roll of paper towels of the kitchen set's counter, and asked Clint how long the crew needed before take eight.

"Finally, someone around here doing something sensible! Well, whaddya know." Clint's face had stopped turning purple. "Why did no one else do that, huh? What are you all getting paid for?"

Before Alex could stop himself, he muttered, "We're getting paid to make a movie, not to risk our lives—which are severely in danger, given your fondness of projectiles."

Luckily Clint wasn't paying attention, but Rose was. Alex caught her eye because, well, like,—wow. Even on a movie set, with gorgeous people running left and right, Alex was noticable. It must have been the combination of his serious brown eyes, which could turn to amusement in a second, and his blond hair, which he washed at night and rolled out of bed with in the morning, without a second thought. His grin was wicked and he flashed it generously, often in response to some internal joke.

Alex had caught her eye because of his looks, but he had definitely captured her interest because of his actions—he returned her five year old brother, which was more then enough to have Rose grateful. But when she had tried to thank him, he had looked like he was being crucified—he said your welcome, muttered an excuse, and escaped. She had looked for him afterwards but security said he had left. Rose was determined to speak to him on the first day of filming, but the schedule was so hectic... and it was almost like he was avoiding her?

Ever since seventh grade, when Rose grew boobs and discovered makeup in her everyday life, no boy had ever turned her down, in any way, shape, or form. She had even gotten a few marriage proposals. But the boys were all the _same_, all uniformly good looking and paparazzi-friendly. Rose knew she was being unfair when she didn't even bother to get to know them, but seriously...

Alex was different. Rose was arrogant enough to assume that there was a reason why he was avoiding her, that he really did like her, but... But what? Maybe he thought she was divaish? Or maybe he had a girlfriend at home? The possibilities were endless, and Rose was bothered by them—even though she had no right to be.

Clint brought Rose down to earth when he called an hour break so that the crew could clean off the set.

Alex looked at Rose sharply before turning away and walking down a hall in the other direction. Because they were on location at a school, there were many classrooms and crannies he could hide in.

_Hide in?_

Mrs Henderson approached Rose, all aflutter. "Oh Rose, so you have a break now, I was thinking you could review the fan questions and sign those photos? They are so--"

"Later. I have homework."

Rose felt bad about being short with her chaperone, but Alex's head was almost out of sight, and she was determined to find out why he wasn't interested. A small voice in her head popped up and chanted:

_Maybe he just doesn't like you. He thinks you're ugly. He thinks you're slutty. He thinks you're bitchy..._

For the first time, Rose felt insecure, and she hated that feeling. She rushed after Alex.

_You can't aaaaaact, your daddy haaaates you..._

"Shut up!" Rose gasped, doubling over a water fountain.

"'Scuse me?" Alex half turned at the sound of her voice, looking alarmed as he saw her bent over the water fountain, taking in great gulps of air.

_Pull yourself together, girl! He'll never like you at this rate. Ever. You're pathetic. That's why your dad is only coming to set for the day, and it's why he's late._

"Sorry, I just—needed a drink—and choked..." _Great excuse, Rosie. Pshhh._

Alex half laughed. She was delusional if she thought he'd swallow that, but the effort was cute.

"Alex, I just wanted to say," Rose began hesitantly, having no idea where she was going with this, "thanks again for finding Nate. Like, I was responsible and it was completely my fault that I wasn't paying attention. And you—it was great of you to like, go..." she trailed off, aware that she epitomized dumb American. _Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh_.

Alex cocked his head to the side, waiting for her to get it out, so he could go back to staring at her without her knowing. He took her in: dark hair, curling in heat induced ringlets down her back, blue eyes that sparkled with humor, often at some private, hidden joke... he wanted to know what was funny... straight, braceless teeth... all in all, hot. But also something else. She was cute when she was nervous. Nice break from tradition.

Rose bit her lip, scowling at herself. "So anyway... I was thinking... if you ever, like, need anything...or if I can help you out..." she stopped at the sight of Alex's face. A second ago it had been untroubled, almost happy... but now it looked stormy and almost scary. Rose continued in a small voice, "or we could just be friends..."

Alex gritted his teeth.

_Yeah, thanks, you can help me. All I need is to put your daddy in jail. I know your mum's dead, and that this would probably rip open your family, but yeah, sorry..._

Instead he said, "thanks so much. If I ever need anything that," he paused, feeling awful as her face crumpled, "_you_ could give me, aside from an STD, I'll let you know."

Alex walked away, knowing that he was the scum of the earth, but he was comforted by the knowledge that he wouldn't be using her, that when he succeeded in his mission, she wouldn't have been instramental in her dad's jail time.

Rose walked away, to shocked to speak. Her Tory Burches echoed dully across the taupe hallway and made a depressing rhythm as her phone beeped.

WE'RE HERE. WE NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING.

Even the excitement of having her two little monsters around set didn't dispel her anger and hurt at Alex. She turned the corner into the lounge to wait for her brothers and father to come up.

A blond and and brown haired head came barreling into her, and Rose momentarily forgot her crushing hurt and laughed at her two brothers. Her laughter quickly died away as two pairs of eyes stared at her sadly and two mouths wailed, "Daddy's got a _girlfriend_ and she's _awful_."

Everyone in the lounge turned to look at the little huddle but the Leighton kids were to preoccupied to care. In all the commotion, Alex had slipped in to the lounge unseen and was watching the look on Rose's face. After what he had just said to her, he had no right to want to make her happy, but again that compulsion to protect her...

Rose was staring into space, her face frozen in shock. Her eyes desperately scanned the room, looking for something—escape? as she heard footsteps and her father's voice outside the door. Rose's eyes locked on Alex and she unfroze. Her eyes narrowed in anger and she watched the door open.

Alex also watched the door, wanting to get another look at his target. Roy Leiton walked in, and draped across his arm was some redhead who couldn't be older then 19. Rose looked questioningly down at Davie, who nodded solemnly.

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Rose was disgusted. Her dad was 38. _Ewww_.

Roy and Redhead were coming closer. The entire room was silent, zooming in on the drama unfolding. Rose let herself slide back into actress mode—_sell the line, Rosie. This is the reason they pay you millions--and Clint is watching._

"_Dad_, oh my god, _Daaaaddy..._I've always. Wanted. a sister."

* * *

**So this chapter kind of depressed me because I love Alex. So I'm currently writing the next chapter-where he is awesome.  
**

**Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**So this one's a little... whatever. A filler chapter. But yay Alex!**

* * *

There was a short silence, which Nate broke by muttering, "You did _not_ just say that."

Roy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He usually avoided dealing with his difficult daughter as long as possible, preferring to hire a permanent chaperone and have her work on movies out of the country, but this conversation was inevitable.

"Rose," he began, not bothering to reprimand her for her rudeness, "this is Jill. Jill, meet my daughter Rose. She was born in Paris. Rose, Paris is Jill's favorite place."

Jill's smile had been forced for the past thirty seconds or so, and she now dropped it completely, bending down from her height of 5' 10'' to look Rose in the eye.

"Paris? Oh my goodness! Hola, Rosie, como estas?"

Rose paused, letting the mistake register with everyone in the room. Then she smiled devilishly and started speaking, counting on the fact that Jill spoke neither Spanish nor French.

"Hola Jill, it' s tan no grande encontrarle. ¿Usted no sabía seriamente que hablan francés en París? Porque muy me asustan para usted. ¿Usted también piensa las uvas plásticas es perfectamente comestible? Oh que correcto--usted probablemente don' t come—" (A/N: babelfish./translatetxt)

"_Rose!"_Now Roy looked angry.

"Is she _legal_?" While the initial shock had faded, the anger remained. Rose was angry at her father, at his new arm candy, at the world—for seeing her dad as hard working instead of the spineless man he was. Since when was dating models (for Jill was undeniably beautiful) and driving fast cars a substitute for actually caring about your family? Rose refused to admit to herself that her anger over Alex was partly fueling this.

Alex felt hope surge in his chest. If she was seventeen, they'd have an excuse to look into his record—evidence could be found—he would have had nothing to do with this—

"My nineteenth birthday was last Wednesday. Your daddy bought me such a beautiful present."

Jill, knowing full well how much this was killing Rose, held out her hand and showed the entire room the rock on her finger.

"Oh my god..." The room was filled with buzzing as people came forward to greet the woman who was sure to be the new Mrs. Leiton soon.

Alex's hope had long since died. There was no getting around the fact that he would be the one to put Roy in jail.

Rose was standing slightly to the side, looking small and vulnerable as she watched her dad replace her mother with some nineteen year old model, not knowing what to do.

It was Clint who rescued her.

"Rose. Filming. It's starting soon—why don't you head over to Hair and Makeup so they can reapply lipgloss or something."

Rose nodded woodenly and walked out. Amber was running down the hall and almost knocked her down.

"Oh my god, Rose, you have no idea what just happened! The Nick Jonas is here with some of his friends! And they're so hot! They want to meet you! Oh, I gotta go. Just wanted to tell you!"

"Thanks..."

* * *

Alex decided it was high time to tell MI6 what was going on. He called Mrs. Jones and told her what he knew.

"I'll need as much information as you can give me on the Leiton family, specifically on Roy. I'm not sure he was talking too—I'll find out—but in the mean time..."

"We're on it. In the mean time you should try and get closer to him through his daughter? She's about your age. I'm sure you've seen her. Quite a pretty little thing, and by all accounts intelligent. Spoiled, most likely, but don't let your personal feelings jeopardize the mission."

Alex winced. "I'll do what I can."

* * *

Rose wanted to find an empty classroom, cry, and then shoot take eight.

She wandered down to the basement. People rarely went there, and it was cool and quiet below the gym.

Rose wandered into a classroom only to find a group of teenage boys, who started wolf whistling as she stood there.

"Sorry...wrong room...so busy... got to go..." Rose muttered, wondering how on earth she was going to get out of this one while still being friendly—the way the boys were looking at her made her shiver.

"Oh, baby, Rose, don't go..."

So they recognized her. Rose ignored them as she walked out. There would be hell to pay later, from her publicist, but she didn't give a damn. She needed privacy, space to think.

One of the more persistent boys followed her.

"I'm Mark. Wanna go out with me?"

"Sorry, Mark. I...have homework..."

He grabbed her arm.

"Come baaaachhh..."

Mark's speech was slurred. His breath, reeking of beer, washed over Rose. His grip on her arm tightened and he brought his mouth down on hers. Rose had no idea how to reason with him, and they were down in the basement—a little too far from the hustle and bustle for her liking.

She said the first thing that came to mind.

"I have a boyfriend."

Mark leered. "He's not here now..."

"Doesn't matter." With that, Alex kicked Mark in the gut. Mark staggered, calling out to his friends. They spilled out of the classroom, heading for Alex. Four of the soberest ones surrounded Alex while the rest catcalled and whooped.

Alex made short work of them. They lay, groaning on the floor, as Alex straightened up and walked over to Rose, a litte out of breath.

"My god... how did you do that?" Rose looked up at Alex. "Thanks..."

They walked in silence to the elevators. The elevator came, and Rose examined herself in the chrome paneling. Her silky hair was slightly mussed. She had pulled it out of the braid and started to redo it when Alex stopped her hand.

"Keep it loose."

"Why do you care? As long as I don't give you an STD."

Alex grimaced. He wasn't forgiven yet.

"Look, I'm sorry about before. What I said was...insane... and completely uncalled for. I don't know you at all... I had no right to be making assumptions about the way you are. I just thought that it would be better if we're...not friends. That way I can't hurt you."

They had arrived at the ground floor. Alex walked her to the lounge, now mercifully empty.

Rose looked at him. "Hurt me? You helped me. A lot."

Alex sighed and ran his hands through his hair. The gesture reminded Rose so much of her dad that she felt tears pool in her eyes.

Alex sighed again. "I have to go."

Rose nodded as she sank down onto the floor.

Alex shivered. The air conditioning was on full blast and he had left his sweater in the lounge. He went back to get his sweater, thinking that maybe he and Rose could be friends—not close friends, for sure, but anything was better then this.

Alex felt her presence before he saw her. Rose was on the floor, staring off into space, her mouth a little open. Rose turned her head too look at him, and slumped back against the couch.

"Are you going to tell the paparazzi?"

Alex walked over to her. He looked down into her face and saw a scared little girl.

"Is that what's usual for your friends?"

"Depends." Rose looked warily up at him. "Just tell me before you go to the paps—that way my dad doesn't have to read it in the magazine before hearing it from me. "

She started. "Wait--I thought you said we weren't friends."

Alex didn't say anything, he just looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

Rose drew in a ragged breath as Alex slowly bent down, took her hand and pulled her up into a standing position.

He did the only thing he could. Hesitantly, he put his arms around her and felt her stiffen. He was

"Rose...your dad—"

"I hate him!" and with a muffled sob, she melted into Alex.

_Yeah, me too._

* * *

**Let me know what you think. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far!  
**

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	6. Chapter 6

**Whew, these chapters are getting long. To everyone who reviewed--ILYSM!**

Alex had figured out an unhealthy but effective way of dealing with Roy Leiton's criminal activity: pretend he had no connection to Rose. It _was_ working out well, until Mr Blunt had called and demanded to know why Alex hadn't already searched Roy's hotel room? Room number 607, between his daughter's room, 608, and his sons' room, 606.

From a brief conversation that afternoon, Alex knew that the Leitons were going out to dinner that night, as a family. From the way Rose grimaced as she told him that, he assumed that Jill would be there too—Alex briefly wondered how Rose was holding up. But tonight was the ideal time to do a quick sweep of the target's room (always "the target", never "Rose's father", or even "the father").

The cast members were all staying in a posh hotel called Le Chateau. The crew was staying in a pokey little hole in the wall two streets away, and it took Alex a minute to walk over. He was dressed in loose black, and armed with his gun and bug sweeper. He snuck into the side door and strolled through the lobby, swinging behind the desk to swipe an electronic key card. He froze as he locked eyes with a stocky man with cold black eyes and black hair, but the man turned casually away. Whew. Next, Alex used the service elevator to get to the sixth floor. Pathetic, really—whatever happened to security?

Alex took a deep breath as he walked into Roy Leiton's room, taking in the setup of it so he could replace things the way they were. He memorized the position of the open suitcases (Jill had seven) and the items on the desk, the remote on the bed. He methodically searched the room, but found nothing. His eyes fell on a phone, tossed carelessly on the dresser. Why would Roy or Jill leave a phone in the room? And wait—Roy had a Blackberry. This was a sleek black Razr…maybe it was Jill's?

The phone rang loudly, startling Alex. He stared at it as it went to voicemail.

_Mister Leiton. I am in your lobby. You are not here. If you didn't want what I have to offer, you should have cancelled. Yet you did not. My bosses will be very displeased that I came here for no reason. And when my bosses get displeased, they act…impulsively. You have very beautiful children. _

Alex shivered with the implied threat, and recognized the voice as the voice of the second guy in the alley.

_Because I don't want to give the bosses reason to think you have cold feet, I have a key and I know your room number. I will drop off the plans and your personal pick-me-up now. I will hide them under the bed. My trouble will cost you, though—next time, pick up your phone. _

The door handle turned as Alex shot into the closet and checked his gun. He cursed silently—he had forgotten to put in bullets.

_Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. I am an unprofessional idiot._

Alex peeked through the crack in the closet's doors. The man he made eye contact with downstairs was stashing a briefcase under the bed. He frowned at the sight of the little phone.

Alex made a mental note of the guy's appearance, and almost cried out in pain as his back hit something cold and hard—a door handle. Of course—they must have adjoining rooms. But did it connect to Rose's room or her brothers'?

The door saved Alex's life, for Alex made the second mistake that night. He sneezed.

The man had one foot out the door when he wheeled around, pulling out his (most likely loaded) gun. Alex stumbled blindly through the door, thanking his lucky stars that the entire family was out—until he heard a shower turn off and saw Rose, very wet and very much in a towel, walk out of the bathroom.

* * *

Rose stood in the shower, relishing the feeling of the hot water on her hair. Hot water was her favorite way to unwind after a stressful day, and her day had been the hardest day ever. In the beginning, she had vowed to put all thought of Alex out of her mind—but that didn't last very long. She was still wondering how Alex fought of four huge boys at once… it had seemed so effortless, but Rose could only dream of how much practice he'd had. And he had understood her Spanish… he was seriously interesting.

The shock of Jill had been quickly replaced by anger. She had just sat through half an hour's worth of dinner with her, and had come to the conclusion that A) Jill was, in terms of book smarts, an idiot, and B) Jill had the sense to bag a millionaire and had the…talents….to keep him. Also, Jill couldn't stand children—she was barely more than a child herself. Rose was so sick of watching her and Roy flirt that she had escaped with the excuse that she had homework, earning her a baleful look from her brothers. Sorry, boys. Rose actually did have a mountain of work.

Rose heard a muffled bang, and turned off the water, wrapped a towel around herself and went to investigate. She found herself face to face with a disheveled Alex. She heard a banging on her door.

Rose's mouth opened in a surprised O as she saw Alex standing in her room. The banging on her door continued as she recovered herself enough to inquire, "What the _hell_?"

"Please—I'm not here…"

"Yes you are! You perv, what are you doing here?"

Rose gasped and nearly dropped her towel as Alex whipped out a gun, momentarily forgetting that it had no bullets in it.

"Answer the door….please, Rose, you don't understand—" he followed her gaze and dropped the gun, "I'm not gonna hurt you, just…"

He dived into Rose's closet, looking apprehensive as she marched towards the door.

"I'm _coming_, chill…"

The drug dealer was at her door, gun at the ready.

"Is anyone in your room?" He bellowed, scanning it angrily.

"Yes, I am, and will you please get ou—" She spotted the gun in his hand.

"Little girl, what's your name?"

"Rose Leiton, who are you?"

Alex hissed quietly as he said, "Your daddy's friend. I'm not gonna hurt you, kid, I just need to know—are you alone in your room? No blond haired kid, sixteen, dressed in black?"

Rose looked at him steadily before quietly saying, "No."

"Okay. Sorry, kid. Make sure you daddy knows that Link stopped by."

She closed the door and waited a minute before slowly turning to face Alex. He was watching her warily, keeping his distance but staying between her and the phone. "Don't call the police."

"I'm going to go get dressed. When I get back, you need to give me some answers. If you're gone, I WILL call the police." Rose waited for his nod before grabbing some pajamas and heading to the bathroom.

She was gone two minutes but to Alex it felt like a second. He tried to gather his thoughts, think of an excuse—but before he could form a coherent thought that wasn't _God, you look hot in a towel_, Rose was back.

"Okay, spill." Rose lay on her stomach on her bed, chin in her hands, feet in the air. Alex sank into a chair.

"Ummm…." Alex deliberated. He was about to tell her that she could go ahead, call the police, they knew him, when he made the mistake of glancing at her. She looked so trusting—evidently she had gotten over her fear of him and trusted him to tell her the truth.

Alex gulped and made his decision. He told her everything, starting with his uncle's death. She accepted it calmly, without batting an eyelash, looking suitably impressed as he told her of his escapes. Alex found himself embellishing some of them, delighting in the look on her face—he hadn't felt this way since, well, Sabina. He found himself enjoying the way Rose's face turned cold when he mentioned Sabina, and warmed again as he laughingly reassured her that it was long over.

He hesitated when she asked him what his current mission was. He tried simply saying, "Drug bust, " but Rose frowned at him in mock reproof until he continued on to tell her that MI6 suspected drug activity on set and thought it housed the supplier for most of Hollywood.

He skated over the part about her dad, telling her that he was searching everyone's room. At this Rose laughed and said that there was nothing exciting in hers, would he like to check?

* * *

Alex had been in Rose's room for hours when her phone rang. She checked Caller ID and groaned, not picking it up, letting it ring.

_I'm Mrs. Lifestyles of the rich and famous  
(You want a piece of me)  
I'm Mrs. Oh my God that Britney's Shameless  
(You want a piece of me)  
I'm Mrs. Extra! Extra! this just in  
(You want a piece of me)  
I'm Mrs. she's too big now she's too thin  
(You want a piece of me)_

Alex moaned. "My ears!"

"What? Britney Spears is _classic_."

"Shut up! She has no talent and is only famous for screwing half of Hollywood." Alex glanced at Rose, and then smirked. "Oh, wait—did I just insult a personal friend of yours?"

Rose grinned back. "Hardly. I met her for a second at last year's VMAs. Cute dress." It was true—Rose barely knew her—but even if it wasn't true, Alex looked so damn cute, stretched out next to her on her bed, smirking down at her, hands behind his head….she needed to distract herself. "So what music do you listen to, oh high and mighty god of good music?"

"You tell me first. What's your favorite classic rock song?"

"Umm….Jonas Brothers When You Look Me In The Eye."

"You're joking. Please tell me you're joking."

"Actually, no…should I be?"

"Look, I know you're image is Disney pop princess extraordinaire," he shifted on the bed, rolling sideways and propping up on his elbow to look at her, "but do you listen to bad music because you like it or because you've just never been exposed to good music?"

"Why do I feel like that question has a right answer?"

Alex laughed, taking an Itouch out of his pocket. "Here—listen to this. You'll like it." He gently put an ear bud in Rose's ear and put on the song Don't Cry, by Guns 'N Roses. He watched her reaction to it: she was smiling gently, hair fanned out around her head on the pillow. Alex was suddenly very conscious that she was in short shorts and a tight tank top, while he had shed his dusty shirt a while ago due to the heat of the summer night.

Rose smiled at him when the song ended, her eyes bright. "I _loved_ that. Who's it by?"

"Guns N Roses.. Much better then Miley Cyrus, no?"

Rose reacted automatically, her body tensing as a bright smile plastered itself across her face. "I love Miley."

Alex frowned at her, not fooled. "Rose…you know me…I've told you everything about myself. _  
_And when I'm with you, it feels…right…but then you tense up into movie star mode, and I have no idea who you are sometimes! How can I get close to you when you're two different people?" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Where is my Rose and where is THE Rose Leiton? Who are you, Rose?"

Rose looked up at him, took a deep breath, and smiled. "Hi, I'm Rose. I'm fourteen years old and I live in New York City. I love to act. I have two little brothers who are complete monsters, but I love them anyway. And I think I have a crush on a spy kid called Alex Rider."

"That's all I needed to hear." And he was kissing her, kissing her in a way that made her forget everything but him and her together. Alex had moved on top of her, holding himself on either side of Rose so she felt none of his weight as they continued to kiss, occasionally breaking for air. Alex's lips once again met Rose's as she sighed into his mouth, opening hers enough for him to slide his tongue in.

* * *

A while later, Alex adjusted them so that they were in a sitting position, with Rose on his lap, leaning against the wall as Alex grinned down at her.

"You look happy, Rosie. Been doing anything fun lately?"

He laughed as she tackled him against the pillows. They were interrupted by Rose's alarm, which showed that it was midnight.

"Crap, I'd better go before your dad comes to say goodnight."

"I'll see you on set tomorrow…"

Alex winked. "Hell yeah. After tonight, towel included," He smirked as Rose blushed, "I'm coming early."

* * *

**OK, so here's the thing: I've gotten a ton of hits, which is great. But I've only gotten a dozen or so reviews--which is not so great. And reviews MOTIVATE me and also give me ideas and stuff. Soooo, if you guys like it (or don't like it, come to think of it), drop a line. Gracias!  
**

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	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to all my amazing reviewers! Like, all 10 of you. Hint hint.**

Mrs Jones glanced sideways at Mr Blunt, wondering whether or not he was in serious danger of having a heart attack. For once, he and Alex seemed to have switched roles—Alex was calm and collected while Mr Blunt was furious, purple and spluttering into the phone.

"What do you mean, you told her? You told some whiny little _brat_ a _classified_ secret and decide that she's _trustworthy_ because your _hormones_ are _raging out of control_?"

"Mr. Blunt. It's not like that. Rosie is completely fine with it, and when I burst into her room with a gun what were my options? She won't tell anyone. Mrs Jones, please help me here…"

"We'll call you back."

Mrs Jones hung up the phone and looked at Mr Blunt with a worried expression. "Alan…"

"What? You're not _happy_ that he's become a normal teenager? You don't think that we should leave the happy couple alone?" Mr Blunt had recovered himself enough to inject some sarcasm into his voice.

"Well, no, actually I'm not. I wish he'd hold off on that a month or so. See, Alan, I agree with him that he had no choice but to tell her the truth—to a certain extent—when he burst into her room, but my question is this: _why do we not have the briefcase_?"

"Because he was too busy snogging her to retrieve it."

"Right. Since when had Alex ever been that unprofessional? Never. And if he's not careful he'll get a lot more then himself killed. I think we need to end this as soon as possible."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"Give him an ultimatum: we'll kill Rose's career, bust the dad—which we'll do anyway—scatter the kids throughout foster homes."

"Fine. Now, we have a positive ID on guy number two. His name is Ryan Shackman..."

Mrs Henderson was feeling frazzled. Rose was being stubborn. This was a common occurrence.

Mr Leiton was annoyed. Rose was disobeying him. This was a common occurrence.

Rose's PR manager was furious, though. She was the third adult who had told Rose that it was imperative that she break it up with Alec or Adam or whatever his name was before the press got wind of the romance, and Rose wouldn't listen.

Mrs. Olinsky screamed.

"_Rose!_ Do you _not _understand me? _You still work primarily for Disney Channel!_ And they are very worried. Do you realize that the people who write your paychecks don't want another scandal? You are supposed to be the good girl of the bunch! No, no, no. And with _him_? He is nothing. You look like trash, picking up some punk off the street for the night! How long have you known him, huh? A week? Your career will go down the drain. For him."

Her voice turned soft. "Is this your teenage rebellion? Are you trying to get back at your daddy for Jill? Because sweetie, it's not worth your career."

Rose bellowed back.

"You have no idea what it's like. I _hate_ Disney. I want out. I'm a good enough actress that I can go and sign with another company. I don't want people controlling _my_ life, telling me who I can and can't date. _Leave me alone_."

Mrs Olinsky turned and glared at Roy, who had his head in his hands. He loved his daughter in the abstract, but did he really have to deal with this…this…_drama_? Isn't that why he was paying all these chaperones and PR people and hairdressers and makeup artists, to sit there and listen to his teenage kid bitch about her life? Because Rose had it easy. He, on the other hand, grew up with _his_ dad not giving a bloody hell about him, except when he embarrassed the family. Roy had a vivid mental picture of his dad, head in his hands, telling Roy to just shut the fuck up, that I love you, son, but I don't really want to deal with you right now.

Roy felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on him head. Was he turning into his father? No. He cared about his kids. But business had been shaky and he was still squeamish about this drug deal, and Jill was, well, Jill—Roy had so much going on…

No. I will not turn into Grandpa Leiton. My kid shouldn't be going out with this boy and that's final. I _care_.

Roy looked up.

"Rose. You're too young. I'm your father and I'm telling you that you may not date him. For many reasons, not the least of which is your career. I want what's best for you, and what's best for you is not to throw away your dreams on a boy."

Rose stared at him, emotions battling for control. In the end, anger beat out shock, horror, and happiness.

"Wow, Daddy. Of all the times to start being a dad, you choose now."

Roy winced. He needed a drink. "Enough. Rose, if you don't break up with your boy today I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I'll make sure that police search his hotel room and find _stuff_ that'll put him away for years. And let me tell you—if he's in jail, then he's sure as hell not on set."

Rose scoffed. "Jail? Come on, Dad. And anyway, you can't put him there. He has connections. They'll release him in ten minutes flat. And he'll—" she froze. Even if they released him from jail, Roy Leiton definitely had enough influence to get Alex banned from set. And he wouldn't be able to finish the mission. And his person Jack would have to go back to the US, and Alex would be in a foster home.

Rose's phone rang.

"Alex? Hi. So listen—" Rose's voice was flat.

"Rose. We need to talk." Alex sounded so serious.

"Yeah, we do."

**Please review! And I'm sorry about this--it's necessary, trust me.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter nine might not be up for a little bit, so here's eight.**

It had been a week since Alex and Rose broke up, a week filled with awkward shuffles and carefully averted eyes. This had gone unnoticed by almost all the cast except the director, and Clint Eastwood wasn't one to be warm and fuzzy and talk about feelings. The most he had said was "You can turn your sadness inwards, and you ruin the movie. Or you can turn it outwards, and you will be the best actress on set. Choose. Now."

And she had chosen. Rose threw herself into the movie as if her life depended on it, relishing the feeling of being too exhausted to think after the end of a long day. Alex saw her almost collapsing and was worried, but there was a limit to how much he could do.

The mission wasn't progressing as fast as MI6 would have liked. Alex had tapped both of Roy's cell phones, and was on the lookout for Ryan Shackman, should he make the mistake of coming to set.

He didn't quite come to set, but he pulled up in a black Mercedes and Roy got in. Alex didn't hesitate before launching himself into the trunk. Smithers had equipped him with headphones that could pick up close conversation; he plugged them into his Ipod.

_Yeah, so if I get caught in the trunk of a Mercedes with two drug lords in the front seat, no one will have any idea that I'm not a normal teenager because hey, I'm listening to an Ipod!_

"So how are your kids?" Ryan seemed determined to make small talk.

"Same as usual. They resent Jill as a mom. The boys spend their time on set doing god knows what. Rose has been depressed ever since I told her to break it off with some no good street trash. Maybe we should put her on POLI. Apparently depression improves her acting, though, so no one's complaining."

_No one's complaining? Aren't you supposed to care more about your kid's health then her career? And it's not like you need the cash._

"We're here." The car stopped and Alex counted to 300 before carefully opening the trunk a crack and peeking out.

They were in another school. Alex crept out, looking around. He followed Roy and Ryan at a distance. He got to the double doors, wondering what the hell was going on?

This school was also a set, but not a movie set. It was set up for photoshoot. Alex fit right in, as many teenagers were milling around, waiting for their turn to be photographed. He tapped the nearest one on the shoulder.

"Sorry—I'm blanking here—what are we supposed to be modeling?"

The girl looked him up and down and giggled. "POLI. It's the new antidepressant."

"Thanks."

She scribbled down her number and handed it to Alex. "If you have any more questions…"

The amount of teenagers on set gave Alex great freedom to roam around, being careful to stay out of Roy's way. A sign over a large room read GYM—OFF LIMITS.

Alex smiled. How could he say no to such an invitation?

Inside the gym were four white folding tables. On them were boxes of pills, stacked neatly in rows. On two tables there was a sign saying "finished". On tables number three and four a sign read "To be replaced."

Replaced with what?

Alex grabbed to containers of pills, one "finished," and one not. He'd send them to MI6 to have them analyzed. Knowing that being caught here wouldn't be good, he slipped out.

Alex needed to get to Royal and General. He was going to call them and tell them to pick him up when he saw a huge man advancing on him with a clipboard.

"You! Why are you not in hair and makeup?"

"Oh. Ummm…"

"Name?"

"Where is hair and makeup?" Alex asked in desperation.

"Next to the science wing, first door on the right."

The science wing also had a sign on it saying "DO NOT ENTER."

In the Bio lab many people in white lab coats were busy injecting white pills with something to small for Alex to see. Alex knew that he stood out here, and had seen enough. He was just about to leave when voices on the other side of the door stopped him cold.

"This is how we're going to hook the next generation. These kids you see here? All glamorous, thin, hot. All taking POLI. If you were a kid, what would you do?" Ryan's voice deepened with pride. "Inside each and every antidepressant will be a nice little cocktail of illegal substances. Parents and psychiatrists will force feed their kids drugs. And the kids will be begging for more. All over the world. Mass hysteria. This is just a test trial, to be sent to one or two pharmacies. This batch leaves in a month, after all the PR starts."

Roy whistled. "Wow… can I have some for my kids?"

This was sick. Alex shook his head, horrified, disgusted beyond belief. The image of Rose popping these pills came to mind. _No! I have to get to set and stop Rose before I do anything._

Roy and Ryan moved away from the door. Alex ran out, looking wildly around him. He called a cab back to the set, showed his ID, and set out to look for Rose.

He spotted her across the room, talking to some French boy. They were chatting, Rose laughing and playing with her hair while the boy smiled down at her. Alex felt a jet of hot jealousy flowing through him.

"Rose."

Rose looked up at the sound of Alex's voice. "Emmanuel, can you give us a minute?"

"Oui, ma chérie."

Alex scowled after him. "Rose. I can't tell you how I know this but you can't take any pills. Nothing. Not even Advil or whatever. And don't let your brothers."

"What? Why?"

"Did anyone give you anything? Anything at all?"

"No... Oh wait yes. But it's fine, my dad gave me some pain reliever."

Alex's jaw clenched. "Show it to me."

Rose showed him a little container of Advil. "Happy now?"

He took it and tossed it out the window. "Yes."

She gasped. "Why did you do that?"

"Can't tell you."

"Unless you tell me right now…"

Alex grabbed her arm. "What? You'll tell your dad that I'm a spy? Really, Rosie? Are you that selfish? Do you not know how to keep a secret?"

Rose looked at him steadily. "What am I supposed to think? You barge into my room, tell me you're a spy, kiss me until I'm dizzy, and break up with me the next day. We don't speak for a week, and then you come running in here and tell me not to trust my own father? What the hell is your problem? And let _go _of my arm!"

Alex looked at her in wonder. He had been trying to intimidate her into keeping herself safe without asking questions, but Rose... stood up to him?

He changed the subject. "Who was that Emmanuel guy?"

"None of your business. I'll keep your secret, but I trust my father. Sorry."

Alex tugged on her arm harder then he meant to, and Rose sort of fell against him. "Please… take care of yourself."

"Why do you care?"

Alex looked at her for a second, and then kissed her. Rose was stiff for a split second before eagerly returning it.

They were so busy apologizing and unbreaking up that neither of them heard the door open, and Jill walk in and say, "Well well well, Rose and Alex. What would your father say?"

**Thanks to all the amazing ppl who reviewed!**

**Reviews make me update faster. Just saying...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the wait! I'll try to be quicker next time.**

Jill looked from Alex to Rose, gleeful. Alex cursed under his breath, his hand still tangled in Rose's hair.

"Jill....are you going to tell—"

Jill had the air of a cat contemplating an especially elusive mouse.

"Not right now, no. Now tell me something. Why do you not want me as your step mother?"

Rose shot a confused look at Alex. He shrugged minutely. Rose decided to go with the truth. "By all accounts you're a bitch, and you're five years older then me. Creepy much?"

"And if your father was idiot enough to ask your opinion, you'd tell him…"

Rose frowned. "Obviously I'd tell him he's being a creep. And do my best to get you out of my life_, Jane_."

Jill smiled. The smile didn't make her face prettier; it sent a chill down Alex's spine. He sensed that this conversation wouldn't end well for Rose, and by extension him.

"Rosie, honey, we have a little issue, don't we? You want to break me up with the man I want," she paused, letting her words sink in, "and if that happens, I don't see any real incentive for you being with the boy you want, now do I? So I'll tell you what." Jill slowly walked over, reminding Alex forcefully of a predator stalking her prey. She ran her bright red fingernail down Alex's chest. "I keep my guy, and you keep yours. Understand? Now, if _for any reason_ your father doesn't propose within the next two weeks, our secret _slips. _And if the wedding doesn't happen, forget about it."

Rose and Jill stared each other down, and finally Rose pulled out her cell phone and held it to her ear. Jill and Alex waited, Alex torn, willing Rose to look at him so he could tell her that he wasn't worth it—but Rose didn't meet his eyes. "Dave. Nate. Things have changed. We're going to welcome Jill as part of the family now."

Ryan and Roy were sitting in the lounge of the hotel, drinking coffee and discussing business.

"I brought over the photos and outtakes so you can see how we're going to market POLI," Ryan explained, producing a laptop from his briefcase. He showed Roy the before and after ad campaign pictures, which had teenagers having all sorts of fun, always with a tablet or two in reach. Roy nodded his approval.

"And the behind the scenes…" Ryan looked at him, expecting approval. Instead, Roy's face had twisted into an ugly expression.

"Zoom in here." Ryan complied, zeroing in on the upper right corner, and gasped. "Odd. That boy has been popping up everywhere."

"What? You know him, too?"

"I could have sworn he was searching your hotel room when I was there, but he seemed to have disappeared into thin air."

"WHAT IS ALEX DOYLE DOING ON THAT SET?" Roy bellowed, causing heads to turn in the quiet room.

"I don't believe in coincidences. I'll find out." Ryan whipped out his phone. "This is Ryan, codename Link. Call security, tell them I'll need today's security camera feed. ASAP."

Minutes later, their worst fears were confirmed. They saw Alex slip into the bio lab, knew he had heard everything.

Roy groaned. "This scum was dating my daughter…"

Ryan looked at him for a long moment. "Then we'll need to take care of her, too."

"_What?"_

"You can't seriously expect us to just let him walk away! With what he knows? No… and your kid'll have to be shut up, as well. Sorry, Leiton. This is business."

Roy looked panic stricken. "No! They broke up! He hasn't had any contact with her in weeks! I swear!"

It was clear who was in charge now. Ryan watched him squirm, savoring the power. "If I find out that you're lying…"

"No!"

"All right. So that kid, Alex Doyle. Who is he?" Ryan called someone on his phone, giving hushed commands. Roy sat back in his chair, the realization of what was going to happen to the kid slowly settling in. The job would be neat, well done—perhaps a mugging gone wrong, or even—how ironic—a drug overdose. Teenagers. At least Alex had had no contact with Rose for a while….

"I....he's just a kid…can't you…" Roy trailed off, looking at the floor. He felt like a child again, powerless before his father.

"If you can't deal with this, leave. Don't get your rich hands dirty, huh?" Ryan shook his head as Roy quickly exited the room. Roy would also die, when they were finished with him. He didn't have the stomach to do what was necessary.

He turned his attention back to the phone. "Yeah, take him to the lab basement. Poetic justice. You say his name is Rider? MI6 sent a teenager?"

Alex walked off set, exhilarated. The rain made him feel buoyant, as if he was five. He knew his good mood about life in general stemmed from Rose. Ha!

He walked to the nearest tube station, bopping along to his Ipod. Billy Joel—an old favorite. A beggar approached him and Alex fished into his jeans pocket for a fiver.

"Spare some change, lad?"

The man grabbed hold of Alex's jacket as he moved closer. "Walk to the corner and get into the black car. The lady with the umbrella is holding a gun. I have a gun. And that drunk is extremely sober and very good with his gun. There are three guns pointing at you. Don't try to run."

Alex's legs felt wooden as he complied.

The driver turned long enough to press a sickly sweet smelling handkerchief to Alex's nose. There was a flash of green as the light turned and Alex blacked out.

______________________________________________________________________________

He woke up in a brightly lit room with blackboards and desks.

"Euchhh...." Alex felt disgusting. How long had he been out?

He slid off the desks he had been lying on and moved to the door. Two soldiers stood guard. _Soldiers?_

He rapped on the glass. "I'm awake. Do something."

They scowled at him before grabbing their radios. Alex saw one of their watches—2:43 AM. _Craaap. I was supposed to meet Rose at 11 in the pool. Damn, I missed that!_

Alex busied himself searching the room while he waited for something to happen. He checked his pockets, knowing that they would have removed everything—Alex was now gadgetless, lost in an unknown place.

Rose was nervous, though she wouldn't admit it. She had watched enough James Bond to know that it was bad when you couldn't get in touch with a spy, and Alex was most definitely AWOL.

She needed some air. Stepping out onto the little terrace, Rose breathed deeply, wondering why Alex hadn't shown up to the pool. Everyone thought that Rose was the goddess of boys, but the truth? While she could twist most of them round her little finger, she sucked at real relationships. A giggle and breathy "ohhh's" interrupted the peace.

Rose turned towards the sound, and then grimaced when she realized that it was coming from her father and Jill's bedroom. Jill must be on the phone with Roy—he was in Scotland that night on business. Rose was about to step back into her room when she heard Jill gasp,

"Ohh, _Ryan_!"

Ryan?

Rose walked to the closet and opened the closet door. To the side of all her clothes was the door that Alex had come out of. She held her phone camera high, and opened the door.

"Oh my _god_!" Rose quickly sent the picture to her email, in case Jill managed to delete it from her phone.

The picture captured Jill and a man who was definitely not Roy tangled in sheets, but Rose couldn't see the man's face clearly.

Jill screamed. Ryan yelled. Rose giggled. "Sorry…"

Two minutes later, there was a knock on Rose's door. Jill walked in, wearing a robe.

"So." She sat down in an armchair.

Rose smirked. "Deal's off."

"Clearly."

Rose surveyed her. "So tell me. If you're with this Ryan guy, why did you want to marry my dad?"

Jill sighed, and seemed to sag. "You naïve little princess. Have you ever gone a day without an endless flow of cash?"

"Yes! When I was six I got lost in the mall by myself and all I had on me was my credit card, which no one would accept from a six year old. It was terrifying."

Jill laughed, a hard, bitter sound.

"You have no idea what real life is, do you?"

"Maybe not." Rose considered for a second, and then mused, "I used to call you a whore as an _insult_. Now it's just a _fact_."

Jill managed a laugh. "By the way…you know it's almost three in the morning? What are you doing up?"

"Nothing as exciting as you. But you know Alex? He was supposed to meet me, and he didn't, and he's not picking up his phone, and I have this weird feeling…wait. Why am I telling you this?"

"You're not that much younger then me, are you?"

"Nope. Scary, when you think about it."

"Tell me about it. So you're worried about your boyfriend?"

"Unlike you."

"Very funny. Look, if you promise not to tell your dad YET, I can have my…friend Ryan find out where Alex is. Ryan's pretty good at that type of stuff."

"Thanks so much…but I can't promise _never_ to tell Dad. Just...not yet."

"Fair enough. Get some sleep, okay? It'll be fine by morning."

**Whadya think?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Special shout out 2 my amazing beta xXxXmaximuM****-RideRXxX!! Thank you so much!!**

* * *

Alex choked down the panic that engulfed him. No gadgets, unknown place. He'd been in worse situations before—at least now Rose would raise the alarm. MI6 would find out, and save him.

He knocked on the door again. One guard gave him the finger and turned away. The other rolled his eyes and mouthed "What?"

Alex motioned for them to unlock the door. They shook their heads no. Alex held up his hands, the universal symbol for "I'm unarmed." The guards looked at the unarmed sixteen year old boy, who was supposedly a threat to national security, and shrugged. What harm could it do?

"All right, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, where are we?"

They frowned. "Classified."

"Who's your boss?"

"If you're just going to ask us questions we can't answer, then get back in the room. You're boring."

Alex backed off. "Sorry, mate, I just need a piss."

Tweedle Dee turned to Tweedle Dum. "Shot not."

"Funny. No way in hell am I taking him."

"You know…I can piss all by myself." Alex looked hopeful.

"You know what, kid? We'll all go. None of your funny stuff."

Alex had two gun butts digging into his back as he walked through the labyrinth-like building. _Left. Left. Right. Left. Left. Down stairs. Straight. Right. Elevator to basement. Right. And finally the toilet._

"Whoa, this took forever_._ You mean that this is the closest bathroom?"

"It's the only bathroom." Tweedle Dum didn't look happy about that.

"Why?"

Tweedle Dee answered this time. "Something to do with the plumbing—it's expensive to have a lot of water lines going through the building, so they have the bathroom and kitchen next to the lab and factory."

Alex's eyes widened. They were in a building with a lab and factory. "Wow, Tweedle Dee. Are you an architect in your spare time, when you're not holding teenagers prisoner?"

Tweedle Dee puffed out his chest. "That's my dream. I want to go back to school. I've been studying the blueprints of this building, trying to improve the structure of it. And the name's Harry."

Tweedle Dum interrupted. "Enough touchy feely stuff. Are you done, boy?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

As they were walking back, Alex stole Tweedle Dum's gun from his holster. Right before they got back to his room, Harry received a roundhouse kick to his stomach. He bent over, wheezing, unable to do anything.

Tweedle Dum reached for his holster frantically, but found nothing. Alex had a gun pointing directly at his heart. "Give me the radio."

"Come on, now, easy does it…"

Alex cocked the gun. "Now."

Tweedle Dum passed it over, watching behind Alex's back as Harry slowly stood up. Alex brought an elbow crashing into his face without turning around. Harry bellowed, blood pouring down his face.

"Sorry, dude." He took Harry's gun also and stuffed it between his jeans and his hip. Harry's radio also got taken from him.

Alex shoved Tweedle Dum into the room that he had woken up in and locked the door. He turned to Harry, who was crumpled on the floor.

"I really don't want to have to do this to you, but I need to get out of here. Now tell me three things and I won't kill you."

Harry nodded through a haze of pain.

"One: What are they planning to do with me? Two: Where are we? And Three: Who are you working for?"

Harry shook his head. "Can't…tell….you…"

Alex shook his head. "We're at an impasse, then."

"No...please…we're at a warehouse where they are making some drug. They're prepping it for shipping. We're in Battersea. I'm working for...some guy from…California. Organization called Polymort."

He passed out from loss of blood.

Alex shoved him into the room, stripping him of his uniform as he went. Polymort. Many death. POLI. He thought back to Scorpia and shuddered. He had to get back to MI6 headquarters. Alex put on the navy blue uniform jacket, knowing he wouldn't pass any security more strenuous then a glance.

* * *

Rose tossed and turned all night. Today was Saturday—no filming. Nothing to distract her from lack of Alex.

The phone rang. Rose pounced on it, but the caller ID said Jill. Slightly disappointed, she took the call.

"Hey."

"Hey, bitch, whatsup?"

"Did you find anything about Alex?"

"I was getting to that, chill. Ryan says that he's in Chelsea visiting his aunt. You probably weren't paying attention when he said it or something, so stop worrying! Aright, I have a fitting today. I'm walking at Fashion Week in Paris! It's HUGE, especially this year. Apparently they're launching a new antidepressant or something."

Rose remembered Alex's instructions not to take any pills. She knew he was a spy, that he couldn't tell her everything, but she felt like there was a missing piece to the puzzle that she needed. "What antidepressant? Why?"

"I think its called Pola, or Poly or something. I dunno…probably it'll look cool to have all us glamour girls taking it...." she giggled. "I'm not sure. Why's that so interesting?"

"No reason. Okay… thanks. Mwaaa love ya bye."

"Ciao, hun."

Rose hung up. Alex didn't have an aunt, and she knew that he would have told her if he was going to visit Jack.

She put on sunglasses and walked out of the hotel, praying no one would recognize her.

A cab pulled up. "Royal and General bank, please."

* * *

**Review! They make me update faster, I swear.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry it's been a while--here's the new chap. **

**Thanks so much to my amazing beta XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX!!**

* * *

The cabbie had been glancing in the rearview mirror so often that Rose was beginning to wonder whether or not they would crash into the cars in front of them. So far the cabbie had proved expert at narrowly avoiding terrified pedestrians, but anything's possible.

Rose yelped and grabbed onto the handle as the cab came to a screeching stop at a red light, but was thankful that he had finally slowed down. Nightmares of what could be happening to Alex darted through her mind, though, and Rose decided to unleash her inner speed demon.

"Sir, I'm in a bit of a hurry. Mind going a little faster?"

The cabbie turned around fully.

_Damn, we're lucky he hasn't killed us already. If they ever need a new stunt driver…_

"Arighty, missie Rose."

Rose suppressed a grin as the cab jumped forward again. She was reminded forcefully of the third Harry Potter premiere, where the Nightbus had been her favorite scene. This felt like the jerking, maniac bus.

She didn't think twice about the cabbie knowing her name. She was Rose Leiton—everyone knew her name.

They pulled up in front of the bank. "Thanks." Rose tipped him generously.

"Can I have an autograph? My Tracy loves you—she wants her picture in the papers as well, that girl does."

Rose smiled politely. "Of course. I'm sure she'll get her wish."

Rose was right—Tracy _did_ get her wish. Only she had never wished that the picture would show her weeping over her father's coffin, wondering who would want to kill a cabbie?

* * *

The inside of the Royal and General bank was respectable and boring. Rose stood awkwardly next to the desk, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The receptionist looked up coolly.

"And how may I help you?"

"I'm here to see an Alan Blunt…"

"Alan Blunt?" The secretary looked politely questioning. Rose felt the urge to hit her, to scream loudly that something was going on and Alex was in trouble and no one would believe her and he needed _help_, not smirks or

fake innocent looks.

Rose gritted her teeth, collecting herself. Before she could say a word, though, the secretary put her hand up to her ear, frowning.

She listened for a second before smiling up at Rose.

"Take the elevator up to the fourteenth floor. It seems that I was mistaken."

"_Thank_ you."

* * *

Mrs Jones hovered near the door, anxious to meet Alex's new girlfriend—though she'd never admit it.

"Excited to meet Alex's new girlfriend?" Mr Blunt didn't look up from his papers so he missed Mrs Jones' scowl. "Don't worry, she'll be here soon enough. Miss Cotts sent her up."

"How'd you think she found us?"

"Alex told me." Rose strolled into the room, gracefully throwing herself into a chair, the picture of ease.

"I don't suppose your father ever told you to knock before you enter, young lady." Mr Blunt frowned.

"He also told me that MI6's location was top secret." She smirked. "Looks like he was wrong on both counts."

Mrs Jones smiled gently. "We're very glad to meet you, dear. And I assure you that most little girls are quite unable to come waltzing in just like that. I assume you're here on some important business—or have you just dropped in for tea?"

Rose's cool façade wavered for a split second before she replied, grinning, looking around the neat office. "Do you watch spy movies? You know, I'll have to call Daniel Craig and tell him that both Casino and Quantum got it wrong—MI6 actually have the most boring offices on earth. You'd think that there'd be a fancy computer, at least."

"You'll do no such thing! You will sign the Official Secrets Act immediately and then remove yourself from the premises!" Mr Blunt was on his feet yelling.

"Alan, Alan, Rose is just joking around." She murmured, looking at him darkly. "I think it's an _American_ thing."

"Bloody hell, I hate Americans. And I hate teenagers. And I _especially_ hate American teenagers," Blunt muttered, sinking back into his chair.

Rose suppressed a smile. Alex was wrong about Blunt being calm, but maybe he was just stressed. She was, too--she was just better at hiding it.

"Truth is, I didn't just come to wind you up. I came to tell you that—" The phone rang and Mr Blunt swiveled his chair around to get it. Mrs Jones smiled apologetically at Rose.

"This is important!" She was painfully aware that she sounded like a spoiled child.

Mr Blunt made no indication that he'd heard her.

"Listen! It's—"

He glared at her over his shoulder. "It clearly wasn't so important or you wouldn't have wasted time with preliminaries. Not be quiet."

Rose had had enough. She knew that she shouldn't have been so rude, but was too irritable and wound up to admit it and apologize. She hated being ignored or interrupted, no doubt a product of being idolized so much and

interviewed every other day.

_Hey, no one said I was perfect, _she thought wryly. _Now this is getting ridiculous. I'm a spoiled LA princess, goddammit, and I'm going to use it. _

"MR BLUNT. YOUR AGENT ALEX RIDER HAS BEEN MISSING FOR ALMOST 24 HOURS. FOR ALL YOU KNOW HE COULD BE DEAD AT THE HANDS OF SOME DRUG GROUP. I'M HERE TO INFORM YOU SO THAT YOU CAN GET YOUR MEN OUT THERE AND RESCUE HIM." Rose's voice got soft and deadly. "If you even give a damn."

Mr Blunt finally turned back around.

"Little fool…" he breathed. "How much has Alex told you?"

"I…don't know…exactly..." It was painful to admit it.

Mr Blunt abruptly changed the subject. "Do you have any idea who that was? That was security, calling to tell me that there is a dead taxi driver right outside of the building. He was holding your autograph, made out to a Tracy."

Rose slowly walked over to the window. In the back of her mind she registered that Mrs Jones had left—hopefully to track Alex. Numbly, she watched from fourteen floors up as the police removed a black body bag from the cab.

_No, please god, no!_

The thought bubbled, unbidden, to the forefront of her thoughts.

_A man is dead because of me and me alone._

Suddenly, all the James Bonds seemed far to real. Rose convulsed as the thought of how Agent Fields died in Quantum of Solace.

"How did he die?" Her voice surprised her; it was unwavering, clear.

"Nothing fancy—a good old bullet to the brain." Mr Blunt sounded almost kind. "And no, I don't watch spy movies—suddenly they seem a little closer to home, no?"

Rose nodded slowly. "Why…why…" her voice stuck in her throat. She couldn't form the words.

"It was a message from whoever took Alex."

"A message?"

"Not so subtle—don't mess."

"He was nothing—_nothing_—to them…"

"Casualty of war. And it _is_ a war, Rose. A war on crime. And now you're involved."

Rose shuddered as she thought back to the night Alex had told her he was a spy.

* * *

_"Have you ever--you know--_killed_ anyone?"_

_His eyes were troubled for a second before quickly turning hard. "Many people. Some who didn't deserve to die," He said tersely, playing with Rose's hair, not looking at her. _

_Alex had smiled softly before tugging at the braid he had made. "Life and death...isn't a game to me. Rosie...try to forget that...your world is a lot nicer then mine, Mrs. Henderson included."_

* * *

_ Alex, now I'm part of your world. There's no turning back. _

Another thought popped into her head. Again, a James Bond.

This time, though, it was Casino Royale, with Alex strapped to the chair instead of Bond. Alex being beaten, having a gun pointed at him…

"You've got to find Alex."

Mrs Jones was back. "You should get back now. Don't worry—we'll keep you safe."

Rose nodded. The cabbie's face floated in front of her eyes and it took every ounce of self discipline not to succumb to the sheer terror of Alex's day to day life.

_Alex is not a monster. He would never shoot someone in cold blood, break up a family..._

_

* * *

_

**Sorry that there's no Alex! Next chapter, promise. **

**I'm done asking for reviews. You either will or you won't. **

**Please do lol.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks so much XxXmaximuM****-RideRXxX!! And all the amazing ppl who reviewed. **

* * *

Alex walked quickly, desperately hoping that he wouldn't meet anyone on his way out of the compound. Taking Harry's cell phone from the pocket of his jacket, he sent a text to Mrs Jones and Rose—_Leaving warehouse in Battersea_._ I'll be at headquarters by noon._

Alex looked at his watch. It was 9:20 in the morning and he was exhausted, but the danger was palpable; he walked cautiously, keeping his head down and his eyes peeled.

_If Roy Leighton was financing the operation, who the hell was running it?_

Someone dropped a box overhead. The thump surprised Alex; he was suddenly hyperaware that he was very much screwed should his luck run out.

And it did.

* * *

Rose walked out of the bank. She knew that she should hail a cab and get home as soon as possible, but there was no way in hell that she'd get into another taxi anytime soon.

She examined her palms for traces of blood, even though her rational mind told her that it was impossible.

Rose flipped her hands in order to inspect the backs of her hands and saw a flash of crimson. She exhaled slowly as she saw her nails, perfectly manicured and coated with Revlon's Valentine nail polish **(A/N: FYI, it's an amazing color**).

It was a beautiful summer morning in London. Rose ripped off her sunglasses, craving a taste of normal life. She headed towards a little children's playground, smiling at the sounds of running and shrieking and laughter.

Rose sat down on a bench, unwinding her hair from its braid. She loved people watching, but she rarely got a chance to just sit and think without agents and publicists and fans crowding around her.

A little girl, ten or so, looked up from where she was pushing her brother on the swings. Her eyes met Rose's. A flash of recognition registered in the girl's eyes. She smiled shyly and deliberately turned away, sensing that Rose didn't want to be the center of attention right then.

Her phone beeped with a text message from Alex.

_It's about time too! _Rose was relieved.

Other children in the playground had recognized her by now. They were huddled in little groups, whispering. Rose stood up and stretched, feeling much less depressed with life then she had been half an hour ago.

She passed the little girl on her way out of the playground. She was a tall, beautiful black girl who looked very protective of her little brother. Rose felt a wave of kinship rush through her.

The girl spoke softly. "Are you going back to real life now?"

"Real life?" Rose was caught off guard for a second.

"You know, your real life. Parties and acting and glamour and—and—celebrities….and your picture in the papers all the time!" Her eyes gleamed in longing.

Rose laughed softly. "That's not real life. That's Hollywood's lure. Look, all those things are fun—don't get me wrong—but honestly? If you think that that stuff is real life, then you're in for a big surprise, when one day you wake up and there's nothing left of you but glamorous memories. Acting is just a job, not the most important thing in life! Don't ever think otherwise. Family's more important." As she spoke, she was hit with the truth of her words.

Rose smiled at the girl. "You want to act?"

The girl nodded enthusiastically. "I'm ugly, though."

"You're so so gorgeous, I bet you'll make it. Just remember what I said to you today, okay?"

"Family's more important. Got it. But will I get my picture in the paper like you?"

"I sure you will. What's your name?"

"Tracy."

* * *

Alex was disappointed as he eased open yet another door, only to find it led to a broom closet. _This was getting ridiculous. Where did they keep their offices?_

He knew that it had to be somewhere; he had overheard that "the boss just went upstairs to his office" from the technicians' gossip grapevine.

_Finally._

The warehouse wasn't exactly a work of art. It was damp and dank and on the chilly side, which was why Alex was surprised when he peeked underneath the door and saw lush green carpeting.

Throwing caution to the winds, he nudged the door ajar.

Finding it empty, he walked in. He had been right about the room. There was a massive window that overlooked the Thames, partially obscured by gold velvet curtains. The furniture was made out of mahogany—inlaid with gold.

_What the hell? These people have money to burn._

Alex crossed over to the desk, kneeling beside it noiselessly. There were thick stacks of files. He opened the first one. It was empty—no documents, no pictures, nothing. He became aware of heightening danger. Goosebumps rose on his arms as he opened the second one. Nothing. Frantically, he flipped open the next ones. Empty.

Alex slowly raised his eyes to the door. He inhaled sharply as he again found himself staring into the butt of a gun.

_Well, here we go again. _

The man was pale and ugly, his skin stretching tight across his cheekbones, contrasting freakishly with his red hair. His eyes were fixed on Alex, though his head never seemed to stay still. Alex watched in repulsed fascination as the man's head lolled around, his mouth open wide.

"Welcome to my humble abode. My name is Brutto, and that's all you need to know about this operation, so you can stop looking through my desk."

Alex sniggered. "Brutto? Italian for ugly. Guess your parents got one thing right."

Brutto gestured for Alex to get up. Given that Brutto was holding a gun at the same time, Alex thought it wise to go comply.

"They told me you were brave…and reckless…and rude," Brutto said, advancing forward. "They also told me one other thing…"

"And what was that?"

Brutto moved over to the window, beckoning to Alex. Alex looked down onto the street and the river below, and his heart sank.

"That you had a girlfriend."

* * *

Rose walked away quickly, her heart beating fast. She gritted her teeth and hailed a cab. She gave the driver the hotel address and refused to think back over what had happened that morning.

Rose was from the US. She had no idea that the cab driver was taking her in completely the wrong direction until they crossed the Thames. "Sorry, sir, is this the right way?"

"It's a shortcut."

The doors locked as Rose began shrieking and pounding against them. She reached for her phone and with trembling fingers tried to speed dial 999, but the driver turned towards her with a knife.

_This day just gets better and better._

At the driver's grunt, she got out of the car. She was standing in front of a warehouse, large and grey. Rose saw a huge pane of glass above it's double doors.

Her heart flopped she looked through the window into Alex's eyes, two floors from where she stood shivering in the street.

Rose was marched through the doors, up in the elevator, and into a room. Even through her haze of panic, Rose took in the beautiful décor. Someone here had money…

The driver plucked her cell phone from her pocket and left the office.

Alex turned to Rose. "Rose, I'd like to introduce you to Brutto. Brutto is currently holding us both hostage right now, Rose, so despite your true feelings—which are perfectly understandable—I'm begging you: please don't do anything stupid."

Rose choked out a laugh. Alex moved away from her, keeping the gun trained as far from Rose's head as possible.

Brutto also seemed to appreciate the humor. He smiled hungrily at Rose, making her shiver. _Nasty._

Rose glanced out the window. She saw a schoolbus in the distance, two streets away. She refocused on the conversation.

Brutto was lecturing Alex on the benefits of what he was doing.

"So you see, when all these children are addicted and we are their primary suppliers, we can make them do whatever we want. We will ration it out, withhold it; drugs will be the weapon of the future. We will build an army,

destroy the children, _and the world will beg for more."_

The schoolbus was only a street away. Brutto's attention was focused on Alex as he mapped out his plan for the future. His back was to Rose.

Alex realized what Rose was about to do and shook his head no, it was too dangerous, but Rose had already acted. She jumped on his back, pulling his gun arm up. Brutto shot through the ceiling. Alex grabbed a chair and

hit him over the head until he collapsed. He tossed the chair through the glass pane and it shattered onto the carpet, now stained with blood. Alex and Rose clasped hands and jumped out the window onto the top of the

schoolbus.

"Was that James Bond enough for you?" Alex grinned through a cut lip and torn shirt.

"Hmm, more like Jason Bourne." Rose removed a piece of glass from her hand.

"They're both J.B, so close enough. Hold on tight, spider monkey (**A/N: Ahh so sorry! The movie came out and I couldn't resist**)."

Alex scooped Rose into his arms and sprang off the roof of the bus, landing neatly on a pile of garbage bags. They rolled over, getting their bearings. Brushing themselves off, Rose and Alex walked down the street.

The bus had stopped and frazzled looking nineteen year old had gotten out. "Jack! Sophie! There you are!"

Rose and Alex exchanged looks. "_Who?"_

"It's our best chance," Alex noted, his eyes fixed on the warehouse behind them.

"What happens when I get on that bus and the schoolkids start calling me Rose and ask for my autograph?"

Alex shrugged. "Got a better idea?"

Rose wrinkled her nose at the prospect, but squared her shoulders and sighed. "I should probably do the talking."

The nineteen year old looked at them angrily.

"Sophie, Jack, part of the fun of sightseeing is showing up on time and not making us look for you. Now I know that you're only kids, but still—try not to be late again, will you? Now get yourself onto that bus. _He's_ in one of his moods and seems determined to drive a mile an hour."

Rose smiled at him. "Sorry. Look, sir, thing is—we're not Sophie or Jack. Our names are Alexis and Robert—" Alex snorted quietly, "and we need a lift. To wherever you're going."

The boy looked disappointed. "No can do, sorry."

Rose looked deep into his eyes. "_Please_?" The boys opened his mouth to say yes, but--

Alex shifted, breaking Rose's spell.

The boy shot Alex a dirty look. "Um…"

Rose smiled. "This is my brother Robert."

The boy grinned. "Oh. Okay, then, Alexis and Robert. Welcome aboard."

The driver stuck his head out the window. "Move!"

The boy scrambled to the bus. "Did I tell you? My name is Seb. Hurry!"

The bus was filled with sleeping teenagers and smelled strongly of alcohol. Rose and Alex sat in the front, not wanting to walk down the aisles. About ten minutes into their ride, they had nearly hit a teen on a bike, a mailbox,

and a traffic light. This was not a problem, given that they were going all of six miles an hour.

* * *

Seb got a call from the director of the sightseeing program, asking where the hell they were. After being told their location, he audibly blew up. Rose and Alex could hear his tinny voice over the phone. "What the hell is going

on? It's been half an hour, we're on a tight schedule, and you're only half a mile from the hotel!"

Seb tentatively stood up and walked to the driver. "Sorry, do you mind going a little faster?"

The driver bellowed into his headset microphone, waking the entire bus up, "Are you trying to tell Marijuana how to drive?"

Seb looked like he wanted to die. "No sir, just…"

Alex and Rose looked at each other. She whispered, "'Scuse me, but _what_ did he just call himself?"

"Marijuana does whatever Marijuana wants! No one tells Marijuana what to do, no they don't…"

The bus lurched, jumping from six to seventy MPH. Everyone held on to their seats, convinced that they were going to die.

They were on the highway now, speeding along. Marijuana was muttering darkly the whole time, forgetting that his microphone was switched on. The school bus left a passing police car in the dust.

Marijuana accelerated, driving the bus like a maniac. "Aha! Aha! Don't even think about it! Marijuana gets wherever Marijuana wants to go, and no one can stop it!"

The entire bus started giggling except Seb, who looked despairing. One of the boys in the back yelled out, "Damn right, Marijuana!"

Alex murmured, "This is actually kind of funny, once you accept that we're probably going to crash soon."

They passed a red sports car, in which a blond, pretty driver smoked a cigarette. Marijuana got up from his seat, stuck his head out the window, and screamed across the highway: "I lost my number--can I have yours?"

The sight of a fat, balding guy named Marijuana using such a ridiculous pickup line turned what had been mild giggling into full on hysterics.

The blond looked up in surprise, then laughed.

Marijuana picked up a can of hair oil that must have been fifty years old and smoothed it over his hair, all the while keeping his foot on the gas pedal. He ran a hand through it and winked at the blond. "Ahhh…"

Rose's head was buried in Alex's arm to smother her laughter.

Marijuana struck again.

"Did you clean your pants with Windex? I can practically see myself in them."

The blond rolled her eyes. Marijuana took this as a good sign. "My name is Justin. Justincredible."

The woman was getting seriously weirded out. She turned off on the nearest exit. Marijuana looked in the rearview mirror and winked at the kids. "And that, boys, is how you attract the ladies."

After Alex and Rose had stopped laughing, Alex grinned at Rose. "Do you realize that we're on the run from a drug ring, at the mercy of an insane driver named Marijuana on a runaway bus? Now _that's _what you call irony."

* * *

**Whew! that was long. **

**The Marijuana story is completely true. It happened on the bus back from Hershey Park in camp, and it sort of fit here ;) **

**We found out later that his real name was Juan--but he called himself Marijuana and we just thought his parents had a sick sense of humor.**

**To all you Americans--happy Thanksgiving!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Merci Beaucoup to XxXmaximuM****-RideRXxX!**

* * *

"Rose—_Rose_—you've gotta wake up now," a hushed but insistent voice woke her up.

Alex shook her slightly. "Your phone's dead. MI6 is probably out looking for us—" he broke off as he saw Seb looking at them curiously, and put his lips next to Rose's ear and breathed, "but for the time being, we're stuck here. Your dad will probably put out an alert pretty soon, though, so we should be back home in no time."

"My dad won't notice—Clint will, when I don't show up for work." She scowled. "This is probably crazy, Alex, but I've got to say…this is the most fun I've had in forever. How long do you think we have left?"

He gaped at her. "You—realize that you're insane, right? We have _nothing on us_."

Rose stuck out her tongue. "Toothbrushes are overrated."

Alex laughed softly. "So are pajamas…and I don't think we can reasonably expect to be given _two_ sleeping bags." He chuckled as Rose mock frowned at him. Her expression changed quickly.

"Wait—sleeping bags? You mean—no hotel?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "If I understand you right, you want to effectively run away for a few days. I hate to break it to you, princess," he elbowed her lightly-- "no one _actually_ runs away to the Plaza."

Rose huffed. "I knew that." She leaned forward, pasting a smile onto her face. "Seb, darling, where are we going?"

Seb stuttered, making Alex snort derisively. Rose swatted him on the arm. "C-c-ccamping. And sightseeing. Are you and your b-b-brother j-joining us?"

"Yeppers, that's the plan... And we'll need a sleeping bag and stuff…"

* * *

Thanks to Marijuana's driving, they had gotten to the moldy old ruin in plenty of time. "What a _beautiful_…structure," Rose had hissed at Alex. He grinned and whispered back, "Hey, it's not so bad. Might get a little draughty in winter, but I think we'd be very comfortable, overall."

Three hours later, the bus stopped at a damp grey campsite. Seb stood up, rubbing his hands enthusiastically. "All _right_. Let's get _cracking_. The lads in our group will gather round and _light _the fire, while the lovely ladies will set up _tents_. We're going to have _fun_! Our very own bus driver will tell us some _stories_, and we'll all have a lovely evening before waking up_ bright_ and early tomorrow at five. Pop on, now!"

Alex remarked dryly to Rose, "he's like that guy Lockheart from Harry Potter, only less in love with himself and more annoying."

They trooped off the bus to fulfill their separate tasks.

Rose grabbed a tent bag and started dragging it over to the campsite, trailing a bunch of sixteen or so year old girls. One of them turned around.

"Hey, I'm Lily, who are you?"

"Alexis." She hoped Alex had the sense to introduce himself as Robert.

"I didn't see you at the hellhole they call a motel." The other girls had turned around, interested.

"Nahh, we needed a lift." Rose shrugged as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Seb's a perv, stay away. By the way, I'm Mel," a tall girl with dreadlocks said.

"Oh, I can tell. I've known a lot of guys like him. How many of you has he hit on so far?" Rose asked.

The girls giggled and a Bethany started, "Well, it was the first night in the motel and we're all hanging out in the lobby…"

* * *

Three hours later, Bethany, Mel, Lily, Andy, Dyane, and Rose were all sitting in a semicircle around the campfire, laughing at some stupid story or trading fashion advice.

The topic got on to celebrities and they all giggled in delight as Rose confirmed and denied rumors. Alex watched her from \the other side of the fire.

They were eating smores happily when Dyane broke the comfortable silence.

"Hey, Lexi, has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Rose Leighton?"

Rose caught Alex's eye and grinned. He grinned back lazily, reclining on his log. He was sitting next to a Tom and Sammy, and looked relaxed and happy.

"Yeahhh, I've gotten that before. She's not that pretty, though," Alex looked outraged. "She _has_ got a good sense of style."

Bethany laughed. "What are you smoking? She's gorgeous. I'm hell jealous. Rose _does_ have a really good sense of style. Did you see what she wore to last year's Oscars afterparty?"

Mel chimed in. "Yeah, and what she wears in general. It's like preppy but not annoying. I wonder where she gets all those clothes?"

Lily threw the remainder of her smores in the fire. "I heard her grandfather is _the_ Giorgio Armani!"

"Great uncle, actually." Rose changed the subject. "What's the craziest thing any of you have ever done?"

This question led to Truth or Dare.

* * *

Half an hour later, it was Rose's turn again.

Tom grinned at Rose. "Lexi, I dare you to….umm… hmm. Put an insect in Seb's tent."

Rose laughed. "Amateur, but okay."

* * *

Alex checked his watch. "And three, two, o—"

"Oh my Gawd!" Seb came running out, screaming, waving a towel. "Which one of you little twits did this?"

They were all falling on the floor laughing. Rose, doubled over, got out a, "me…" before giggling again.

Seb, red faced and furious, shrieking like a girl, screeched, "You! Detention! Wash all the dishes! Now! And the rest of you! Get to bed!"

Rose was scrubbing tin plates by the combined light of a flashlight and full moon when she felt strong arms encircle her from behind.

"Only you could manage to get detention without going to school…I'm very impressed," Alex chuckled quietly in her ear.

"Yeah, well, I'm talented—what can I say?"

"For one thing, _Alexis_, you can stop slamming Rose Leighton. She happens to be my girlfriend, and she's very pretty..."

"Oh really? I never would have guessed, brother dear."

"That just sounds wrong…"

Rose turned in his arms.

"Alex, what are we going to do? This is madness. We can't stay here forever. Today is what—Sunday? You have Jack and MI6 and stuff. I have my brothers, the movie…"

Alex sighed. "We'll go home, I guess."

Rose looked at him feverishly. "Alex—these few hours…I've felt different. I…I like this feeling, of just being normal. No one has taken my picture, or asked me for my autograph, or treated me like a piece of glass… I haven't worried about whether or not Mel or Bethany or Lily or Dyane or Tom or anyone her are my real friends—there's no reason for them not to be! I know that this has to end… that we have to go back to our lives. But I don't want to!"

"I don't want to either, Rosie, but…look, we can't run away forever."

"I know, I know…."

"It's late, I just wanted to say goodnight. We'll figure it out in the morning. But, Rose…"

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Good night."

* * *

Lily and Bethany were still awake when Rose got back to the tent.

"God, these tent things are cramped. Bethany, can I borrow your hairbrush?"

"Yeah, sure, here. Lexi…your brother's _hot!_"

Rose rolled her eyes, but Lily had already lit up.

"Does he have a girlfriend?" Lily and Bethany waited anxiously for the answer.

"_Yes, _and she's gorgeous."

Bethany sighed. "I knew it! I mean, during Truth or Dare, it was weird when he refused make out with Dyane. She's not exactly ugly, you know? I figured he was either gay or girlfriended."

Lily giggled. "Girlfriended?"

Bethany scowled. "You know what I mean."

Rose propped herself on her arm. "Do either of you have boyfriends?"

The three of them sat talking and sharing secrets and laughing. Rose felt like... a normal girl at a sleepover with friends.

* * *

They were woken up by sirens and flashing lights. The tent door ripped open and a policeman shined a flashlight inside. Lily, Bethany, and Rose screamed.

The light stopped on Rose's head. The policeman unclipped his radio.

"Rose has been located. I repeat, Rose has been located."

Lily looked at Rose. "Alexis?"

Bethany gaped, a look of comprehension coming over her face. "Rose... Leighton?"

The policeman barked, "Miss Leighton, you need to come with me now, please."

Rose got up and turned to give Bethany and Lily a sad look. "Bye, guys…"

Lily and Bethany stared after her.

Alex and Rose were hustled into a police car and sped off through the night. In the seat next to the driver, Alan Blunt sat rigid.

"The two of you have caused us a lot of trouble."

* * *

**The story's winding down, probably one or two more chapters. What did you think?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks so much, XxXmaximuM****-RideRXxX!!**

**Happy holidays, everyone.**

**

* * *

**

"The two of you have caused us a lot of trouble."

Rose and Alex shared a tense look.

"How did they find us?" Rose whispered, leaning against the cool window.

"I don't know. A million ways—this was pretty impromptu and not exactly planned out," Alex muttered back.

"Yeah…"

They drove in silence the rest of the way, both wrapped in their own thoughts. Rose was preparing to see her father again. She wasn't exactly jumping up and down at the thought of his anger, but the alternative—his indifference—was unbearable. _Unbearable but likely,_ said a little voice in the back of her head. Rose set her jaw. The secret to her success was her invisible steel, and Rose was stronger then most people suspected. _What comes, comes. I'll tough it out._

Alex was also thinking about Roy Leighton. There was no question that Alex was going to have to turn him in, but Alex was wondering if he could turn Roy in anonymously… _No. Take it like a man. Rose should know who tore her family apart…_

There was another part of him, a part that was infinitely more tempting, that rationalized not telling her anything. _She'll feel guilty; she'll think that she led me to her dad… It'll be better for her to have a shoulder to cry on, anyway…_

_

* * *

_

They arrived at the MI6 building. There were lights on, even though it was four in the morning. The secretary raised her eyebrows as Rose, Alex, and Mr Blunt walked across the marble floor, Alex in a Hanes and boxers, Rose in a tank top and pajama pants, and Mr Blunt in a stiffly starched suit.

Mrs Jones was waiting for them in Mr Blunt's office, behind his desk. Mr Blunt pulled up a chair next to her, leaving Alex and Rose to sit in the chairs on the other side of the desk. It gave the impression of naughty schoolchildren before their headmasters.

"Had your fun?" The words burst, sharp and rhetorical, from Mr Blunt. Mrs Jones sighed and shuffled some papers in front of her.

"Did you have fun?" she asked. Rose looked at her doubtfully. There was an apprehensive pause, the calm before a storm.

The storm didn't come. Mr Blunt sat up even straighter then before, his eyes popping out and mouthing "who bloody cares", but he collected himself within a minute and breathed deeply before saying, "Alex, you need to tell us everything that you've discovered. Rose, I imagine that you're tired from your journey. You would like to rest."

The room relaxed.

Rose's mouth twisted wryly. "All right." She left the room—it was an order.

Alex told them everything, from the beginning up until the crazy bus ride.

Mr Blunt picked up his phone and dialed the police chief. As the phone rang he covered the mouthpiece and said, "There's nothing more to be done by Alex. We have major holes in our story, like the hell Brutto is and how on earth we didn't know about him till now. We don't know who Ryan is, either—these people run a tight ship. All we really have is the warehouse location and names—and Roy Leighton."

He uncovered the mouthpiece and started speaking rapidly. "Yes, Blunt here. We need you to pull in Roy Leighton. He may be armed…" Alex stopped listening and tried to will an apology to Rose_. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. _

Mr Blunt was winding down. "…and he may try to call his friends, and we do not want them to know that we're on to them. Be careful."

* * *

Alex left the office in search of Rose. He couldn't bring himself to tell her just yet, but he wanted to see her one last time before she found out.

She was in the coffee room, sitting at a folding table and playing with a packet of sugar. A cup of tea stood untouched beside her. Alex walked in, leaving the door open behind him. This way Rose would be able to leave as quickly as possible when she found out how deeply he had hurt her.

"Hi."

"Hey." Alex pulled up a chair and sat on the other side of the table. Rose was scanning his face, and he was scared of what she'd find there. Rose was good at reading people.

"What did they talk to you about?"

Alex shrugged. "Pretty much a recap of the mission."

Rose had known he was hiding something from the minute he walked in the door.

"About that…Brutto was running the drug thing, right?"

Alex nodded, his face guarded, intently examining the plastic tabletop. She ignored that, and continued, "Was he both the brains and the money?"

Alex's eyes flicked upwards involuntarily. He ran a hand through his hair, not answering.

His silence was all the answer Rose needed. "So who was the money?"

Alex squeezed his eyes shut. "Rose. I can't tell you that yet. Why do you even care?" It was a feeble attempt to stop her questions and she narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not a doll, Alex. I'm not an idiot, either. I saw that office, in comparison to the rest of the warehouse—it was a reasonable question, and one that I want answered_. Why won't you answer me?"_

There was no need for Alex to reply. A voice came clear and sharp through the open door.

"Get your hands off me! Do you know who I am? Call my lawyer! What business could you possibly have with me at four thirty in the morning? I'll sue!"

Roy Leighton came into their line of sight for a brief moment before disappearing down the corridor, flanked by policemen and handcuffed. He didn't turn his head enough to see his daughter and his informer sitting meters away from him.

_Shit, I thought they were taking him to the police station._

Alex could see it in Rose's eyes as everything fell into place. He expected her to run to her dad, to cry, to hit him, to scream, to do something—but all she did was swallow and say "oh" quietly. Her discipline scared him more then anything she could have done.

"I'm so, so sorry."

Rose looked Alex in the eye. There was a sharpness to her gaze that burned away the carefully calculated Disney innocence that her wide blue eyes and dark waves conveyed. This person was no sheltered little princess, no fake celebrity shell—but rather a motherless, intelligent girl who has grown up too fast and seen too much to be called a child ever again. Her next words confirmed this.

"Don't be."

Alex babbled on, disbelieving. "I'll try to talk to Mr Blunt, get him a lighter prison term…"

"No." Alex blinked in confusion. "He financed a project that would have hooked countless people on drugs if it had succeeded. My father _always_ goes into business deals knowing what he's doing. He took a risk, thank God it didn't pay off. He has to face the consequences of what he did, don't get him off. His lawyers will probably do that."

"I'm sorry about my part in this."

Rose looked at Alex as if he was a stranger. "You're a spy. You were just doing your job."

"The Eichmann defense," he muttered.

She smiled at him mirthlessly. "I would like to see my father, please."

He was about to protest, but Rose held his gaze and said, "Now."

Alex walked her down the hall to Mr Blunt's closed office door. He put his hand on the handle but didn't open the door immediately; he turned to Rose and murmured, "Whatever happens—I'll always be here for you. Whether you… want me… or not… I'll always do my best to watch out for you. And I don't blame you for…not wanting me anymore. I'm sorrier then you can imagine for dragging you into this."

Rose lost a little of her icy determination as she nodded. "Thank you."

Alex looked down at her. "Sooner or later, I think that there'll come a time where you'll remember my words. I hope to God that I'm wrong and you never need them."

He opened the door against his better judgment, knowing that Rose didn't want to see her father like this.

He was right.

Roy Leighton sat, cowering like a child, in the chair which his daughter had occupied less then an hour before. Alex wondered how someone like Rose could have come from someone like Roy. Roy's eyes were exactly the same as Rose's yet somehow completely different. While Rose's blue eyes were beautiful and strong and bright, Roy's eyes were watery and weak in the best of times. Now they were also red rimmed and tearful. He was sniveling into an expensive handkerchief, alternately cajoling and threatening. His suit was rumpled; the handmade Italian silk tie was knotted all wrong. When Roy saw his daughter, standing in the doorway, he made a move to get up; he was stopped by half a dozen policemen patting their gun holsters. He was truly pathetic.

Alex's heart broke for Rose. He put his arm around her waist and felt her lean into him, although her expression of disgust and pain didn't waver.

Roy spoke first. "Rosie, baby, Rosie. Can you please make these people see reason? You were always good at manipulating. And make sure my lawyer got my call, will you? I promise you, Rosie, this outrage will not go unpunished. I'm an American citizen, goddamit. By the way—what are you doing here? Where have you been?"

A helicopter flew loudly over to the Royal and General building, making speech impossible for a minute. When the helicopter landed on the roof and quieted down, Rose talked to her father.

She acted as if he hadn't spoken at all. "Where are Nate and David?"

Roy looked surprised. "Your brothers are asleep. Why?"

"I'll call Jill, and arrange for her to care for them."

Mrs Jones cleared her throat. "Jill is being questioned about her affair with Ryan as we speak. I'll have one of our agents look after—" she glared at Roy—"—your sons."

Roy yelled, "Jill's been sleeping with Ryan? The little—"

"Dad, stop it." Rose was quiet bur firm; she seemed to have switched places with Roy and become the adult. She looked disgusted at the lying, sniveling, crooked scumbag that was her dad.

Mr Blunt grunted. "Rose, your father is here so that he can tell us some more details of this project. Do you think you could get him to talk?"

"I won't say..." Roy whined.

Rose was momentarily distracted by a rope swinging outside the window. She could have sworn it wasn't there a second ago-- but then again she hadn't been paying so much attention to goings-on outside. She collected herself.

"Dad, who approached you with this scheme first?"

Roy scowled sullenly, but nodded. "Fine, I'll tell you. You got it right—the guy who calls himself Bru—"

The world, normal until now, went crazy. One minute everything was calm, and the next—

The bullet shattered the window, sending bits of glass flying round the room. Chill air rushed into the room, the breeze scattering papers and stealing discarded hats and gloves. Blood sprayed three policemen and half a wall, dotting the whitewashed wall with red. Roy Leighton would never snivel again.

And Rose screamed. She screamed and screamed for what could have been hours or minutes or seconds, she was never sure. She screamed while the rope disappeared and the helicopter took off; she screamed while Mr Blunt picked up the phone and called security; she screamed when two policemen carried her father's body out, a hole neatly through the center of his forehead. She screamed as Alex held her, held her so tightly she was almost bruised; she didn't feel it. She screamed until she could scream no more, and she fell against Alex, dry sobs racking her body.

Alex picked her up, out of that awful office, and carried her to his uncle's old office. He sat her on the sofa as she clung to him, crying for her father and the taxi driver and the taxi driver's family; crying for herself and her brothers and Jill, poor stupid pretty innocent terrified Jill, being interrogated.

Alex let her cry, comforting her as best she could. She was now an orphan, too; he knew that Roy would have a "car accident," and that there would be a quiet funeral. He knew how grief would envelop Rose for god knows how long, made all the worse by paparazzi and curious "fans". And Alex knew that it was partly his fault.

* * *

**Five weeks later**

Mrs Jones picked up a newspaper on her way home. She read through all the news impassively--she had heard all the important stories, and orchestrated half of them.

Mrs Jones got to the entertainment section and winced. Rose was featured front and center, at another party. She was shown holding a martini glass, linking arms with Miley and laughing in a low cut red dress. The caption read, "Is That Water? Starlet Mourns Death Of Father With One Party After Another." The writers of the article—clever bastards—juxtaposed that picture with a picture of Rose at her father's funeral; dressed in black with her head bowed next to her brothers, the pictures could not have been more different.

Mrs Jones sighed and reached for her phone. It would seem that Alex had one last mission--the most personal one yet.

* * *

**Fourteen down, one to go!**

**This chap is a little dramatic. What do you guys think?**

**I noticed as I was writing this chapter that it's the first chapter that actually has anything to do with the summary. Oh well--better late then never. **


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks so much to XxXmaximuM****-RideRXxX! And to everyone who reviewed :)**

**Soo, here goes the last chapter....**

* * *

Alex had been back at home for three weeks now, but Jack still wasn't content. Alex was always covered in bumps and bruises after his missions, but this time the scars were less physical. She wasn't really the maternal type—more the older sister—but she could see the look in his eyes, and it made her heart ache. His eyes were harder, colder, older; but his face now was…pained. That look was oddly familiar; it was the look that occasionally appeared on Ian's face late at night after he came back from his long absences. He would stare into the fire, twirling a wineglass in his hand, lost in his memories.

It was the look of a man who had seen a loved one die in front of his eyes, and been powerless to stop it.

Jack retrieved the paper and opened it automatically, her mind still on Alex. She had no idea what had happened to him on his mission. He had come home, hugged her briefly, and gone straight up to his room. Not a word about how it was, what had happened, nothing. All he had said was, "Megan Fox is overrated."

Alex walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He hadn't left his room for a week and a half, until Jack had literally dragged him outside. After that, he had started working out like crazy. He had always been muscular, but now he had gasps and giggles trailing him everywhere. All of which he ignored—or didn't notice.

Alex set his cereal on the table and pulled back his chair to sit. He glanced down at the table and stood back up abruptly, sending orange juice, cereal, and newspaper flying. Jack was in the process of yelling at him when the phone rang.

"Alex, good morning. I hope this isn't to early to call…"

There was a pointed silence on the other end as Mrs. Jones' voice trailed off.

Finally, Alex prompted, "So? What mission do you have for me this time? More drug dealers? Or maybe another Chinese Triad thing?"

"Neither. Alex, I know this is a little bit of a touchy subject, but have you seen the papers recently?"

"Yes. So sad about that plane crash. No, I have no idea what the economy's going to do next. And I hate to break it to you, but the Queen's latest tea party sounded pretty boring," Alex replied in a monotone.

Mrs. Jones sounded more timid then Alex had ever heard her. "I meant…the entertainment section," she said, slowly.

"Oh."

"I know you and Rose were close. We—and the rest of the world—know that Rose is spinning out of control. Look who she's chosen to spend her time with! Worst case, she dies of some crazy drunk driving accident. Best case, her career is ruined. Which might actually not be so bad. But what I'm trying to say is that you know her better then anyone else. She likes you, maybe even loved you. She certainly trusts you—"

"Trusted. Past tense. Her father's brains were blown out in front of her and she blames Brutto. And understandably, MI6. And me. And herself, because she thinks she led me to him. It's a bit hard to trust the people who have just caused your parent—or guardian's—death. Even if they did it with the best of intentions," Alex said quietly.

Jack was standing in the middle of the kitchen, stock-still with a bowl in one hand and a mop in the other. Alex continued, "And likes me? She made it very clear after her father's funeral that she never wanted to see me, ever again."

"Lover's spat." The dry, precise tones of Mr Blunt came through the phone, causing Alex to nearly drop it accidentally. And then to nearly drop it on purpose.

"Lover's spat? She thinks I helped kill her father."

Mrs. Jones piped up. "Romeo killed Juliet's cousin, and she didn't seem to mind."

Mr. Blunt continued, "Alex, we need you to go to Los Angeles. Meet with Rose. Make her see reason. She knows too much. The CIA has called her in and found her…uncooperative. Think of the disaster it would be if, in some alcohol-induced stupor, Rose told Miley Cyrus about MI6."

Alex almost laughed.

"Think of it as a week in the sun. I hear LA is very nice this time of year. Personally, I think poor Rose isn't a danger to anyone but herself—but one, there _is_ the possibility that she's tell someone, and two, she's also a very _real_ danger to herself. Alex, how would you feel if you didn't do anything to stop this…madness…and Rose turned into that awful Lohan girl?"

"She doesn't want to see me, how many times do I have to repeat that?"

Both Jack and Mr. Blunt cleared their throats, frowning at his rudeness.

"Think of the awful, awful pain this child is going through. There really is no one else…"

Alex nodded into the phone, causing Jack to mutter furiously under her breath.

* * *

Rose sat on her bed, staring at the gold bedspread beneath her. She ran her hands over the silky texture, remembering the day she had decorated her LA house room. Roy had taken a rare day off work; they had had chocolate pancakes that morning, and Roy had cut Mickey Mouse faces for Nate. After the shopping, Dave had insisted they go to that stupid movie which had turned out to be kind of cute, and the day ended with pizza, and Roy had played ping pong and done bad card tricks—

The house seemed to reflect her mood. There was a stillness, like someone had stuck a blanket over the entire thing. Dave and Nate were at school, and the maids and cook were on the other side of the house. Rose lay back as the sunshine streamed in, trying not to let her grief drown her.

_Drowning—that's exactly what it feels like_, she thought. _Like I'm moving underwater._

Her phone beeped, getting on her nerves. She looked at the caller ID and scowled. _Ignore_. It was Cathy, one of the people she had met at a party somewhere. The parties were starting to blur together in her mind.

_I don't even like the parties…they're all exactly the same. And boring as hell, except for the dancing. That's the only time I can actually forget things…dancing and acting…_

Mrs. Henderson, once so feared, had become…inconsequential.

The French windows were too perfect, Rose decided. Like a dollhouse. And nothing ever goes wrong for dolls.

A restlessness came over her, a need for motion. Rose stood up to go out…somewhere.

She was struck with the realization that there was nowhere she actually wanted to go.

The sunlight glistened of the water invitingly through those irritatingly perfect windows.

_The beach. I'll go down to the beach. _

The phone rang again, annoying Rose. In a fluid, graceful motion, she swooped it off from the nightstand. She weighed it in her hand for a second, balancing it. And then she hurled it through the pretty little dollhouse windows, covered in lacy gauze.

_Ha_.

* * *

Alex rang the bell, trying not to be impressed by the gorgeous beachfront mansion in front of him. The door was opened by a maid. Alex swallowed.

"Sorry, miss, I was wondering if Rose Leighton was home?"

The maid looked bored. "Sorry, sir, fans really aren't allowed in the house—"

Alex interrupted her. "No, I'm not a fan, I'm a friend. I need to see Rose."

The maid looked him up and down, and decided he didn't look like a psyco. "Miss Leighton actually just left. If you leave your name and the date of the party, I'll pass the invitation on to her."

"No, actually, I'm not—look, I just need to talk to her. Where did she go?"

"Who knows? Miss Leighton doesn't tell anyone where she goes."

Another maid came running up. "Mathilde, Mathilde, what should we do? The gardener just told me that Rose has shattered her windows with her phone—and got glass in the rose bushes!"

Mathilde turned around. "Clean it up, obviously, you silly girl!" she hissed. Turning back to Alex, she asked, "Can I take a message?"

The sun hit the water at a weird angle and for a moment Alex was blinded by the light. "No. thanks anyway."

* * *

Rose leaned against the boardwalk rail, watching the tide. It was hot; the breeze felt good against her face.

_So peaceful… _She thought back to last night and shuddered. Last night had been a wild party. Zack had offered her some crack, swearing it was the best thing since V's naked pics. But Rose didn't touch drugs…

Footsteps came up behind her. Rose closed her eyes, not believing her senses. But she knew those footsteps too well to ignore them…for a few weeks, her life had revolved around them.

"Take another step and I'll call the police."

Alex's voice, deeper and quieter, came from right behind her. "Would you like to borrow my phone?"

Rose still didn't open her eyes. "I thought I told you never to approach me ever again."

"You did. But you didn't mean it…you were upset…"

Rose whirled around to face him for the first time and wished she hadn't. He was taller and tanner and better looking then she remembered. "Do you remember why I was _upset_?"

Alex grabbed her shoulders and shook her—not hard, but not exactly lightly. "Because your dad was killed! Not by MI6, or me! By the men _we put in jail_. Rose, you've got to realize that. Stop blaming MI6, stop blaming me, and above all…stop blaming yourself."

"Who says I blame myself?" Rose snapped.

Alex laughed desolately.

"What's funny?"

"Rosie, what are you doing? You're doing things…your dad would _not_ be happy if he knew what was going on. You're front page tabloid headlines. You've gone completely off the rails and they haven't even read your dad's will yet! You smash windows. You drink way too much. And I came here…thinking I'd meet a monster. But you're still the same Rose."

"How did you know where I was?"

"You've always liked the water. If you weren't here I'd have tried Les Deux."

"That's later tonight."

"What are you doing, Rose? Why are you doing this?"

Rose was prepared to lie, to give the same answer to Alex that she had given countless producers and directors and managers and actors and agents and old friends. But when she opened her mouth, she found she couldn't. "Daddy never…he only really dealt with me when I misbehaved. So… I feel like…if I misbehave enough now…he'll come back to yell at me again…somehow. Plus, I can't stand being alone."

Alex knew she wasn't talking about physical aloneness. "Rose. He's not coming back! Get that through your head. And if your father did come back, he'd be so, so disappointed in you. He wouldn't let you hang out with the trash you've been partying with. Why are you hanging out with these people?"

Rose shrugged. "Half the time I have no idea who I'm with. It's amazing what tequila and loud music can drown out."

Alex didn't comment. "How are Nate and David taking this?"

"My brothers...are doing better. They go to school. They're sad, but they cope. The one good thing is that they now buckle up whenever they get into cars. I try to keep them away from my party crap as much as possible."

"Who's taking care of you now?"

"Mrs Henderson. We'll find out who's our permanent guardian at the end of the week—they read the will Friday." She turned to him. "Alex, what are you doing here?"

"Trying to convince you to stop this madness and come back—"

Rose's response was sharp and biting. "Come back where? London? New York? Italy? Paris? St. Barts? Aspen? I have houses in all of them, but I don't actually have a home."

"Go back. Go back to New York. Go to school. Be my girlfriend."

It was hard to tell who was more stunned, Rose or Alex.

Rose sighed. "Let me think about it."

"I'm not leaving until Thursday. I'm here for you, I promise. Now please—no more parties?"

"No more parties. For now."

Alex and Rose hung out in LA for three days. Rose showed Alex around, as he scoffed at the surfers on the beach and the Boulevard. Rose mourned her father properly, in private; she read two new scripts and threw out all her Herve Ledger bandage dresses.

* * *

Thursday morning came and Alex had to leave for the airport. The butler loaded Alex's bag in the limo as Mathilde tried to eavesdrop on Alex and Rose. They were standing awkwardly, with about three feet of space between them.

"Rose, will you go out with me—again?"

"Alex…you've saved my life more times then I care to count in so many ways. And Alex, I think I might be a little bit…in love with you." She said that in a rush. "But I can't be with you. We live worlds apart. I don't think I'll ever fully be able to wrap my mind around that night. I can't shake the feeling that if MI6 had never come in, my dad would be alive. I know, I know its unreasonable. I…just can't. And Alex, you deserve better then me." Her eyes were sparkling with tears and Rose looked so… broken. "I'm a mess. Find a beautiful, unspoiled, unscarred British girl. Be happy. And in a year, if my life is stable again, and you're…available, I'll be begging you to take me. Because I don't think I could have lived without you."

Alex nodded, a lump in his throat. "Whenever you're ready…I'll be here. I know I love you, Rose Leighton. And no unspoiled English girl could ever be what I want…because I want you. And only you. You scared the shit out of me when I saw that headline. Don't you dare do that again, you hear me?"

Their last kiss wasn't quick fire; it was a slow, burning, tender relief to the ache both of them felt.

The car pulled away and Rose walked back inside. She picked up her mail on the way—and tossed the invitation to Cody's eighteenth birthday Chateau Marmont bash in the trash.

* * *

The reading of the will happened the next day. Rose had a lot of work to catch up on, and was unable to attend. Her lawyer represented her. Rose waited in the lobby with her bio textbook to hear who her legal guardian would be.

Jack Doyle, Attorney at law, exited the elevators into the lobby. He spotted his client, Rose, reading a biology textbook and smiled slightly. Rose was the same age as his granddaughter—and she seemed to be getting herself back together. Good. Wild parties at fourteen were not healthy.

"So, Rose, what are you planning to do next? A new movie?"

Rose looked up and shook her head. "No. I've been thinking…I'll go back to school for a while. Live the chill life."

The sound of a peppermint being rolled around in a mouth was audible.

Mrs. Jones appeared behind Mr. Doyle. "Hello, Rose. That sounds excellent...for now. The Royal and General Bank has been named as your guardian."

**THE END**

* * *

**The reason Chapter 15 took so long to put up is a) exams and b) I rewrote it. Originally Rose and Alex were going to ride off into the sunset, but it didn't work. At all. Yet. Too much has happened in to little time, and Rose resents MI6 for a ton of reasons. Plus, she really does think Alex deserves a non-screwed up gf. Hmmm, sequel love triangle??**

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So it really is the end! And it's been really, really fun. So i left room to do a sequel, if I want to later. Thoughts on whether I should post a sequel? I'l probably end up writing it, just for kicks.

To everyone who read, thanks so much. To everyone who read and reviewed/story alerted/ favorited, thanks X10! Reviews especially made my day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Soo, I know this story's over, and I haven't officially started the sequel yet, but here's the thing: I miss writing Alex. **

**And some of HNA has been highly dramatized versions of real events, like the Marijuana thing. **

**And most of these chapters were only written because the real Alex is amazing and said, ever so nicely, "get a move on."**

**One amazing reviewer asked me for the scene where Alex and Rose are in LA for three days. Truth is, it's in no fit state to be exposed to the public.**

**But I do have something kind of like that. **

**It's also a reaaally fictionalized version of something that the real Alex claims happened to his cousin's best friend, so I bet he just wanted me to write it...**

**So I did. And it's a oneshot of Alex trying to buy Rose a birthday present. It features a cameo by Sabina, also. **

**And since I love reviews, I'll PM it to whoever reviews before next Thursday, January 29, requesting it.**

** And if I can't figure out how to do that, I'll just post it. Maybe.**

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Oh, btw, this isn't a sequel. It's a cute oneshot. Not necessary to the plot.

Disclaimer: I do not endorse the view in the last part AT ALL. But there you have it.


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